


Jack

by Laurawrzz



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biological Warfare, Doctor Whump, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Lives, Science Fiction, Time Agency, War, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3710494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurawrzz/pseuds/Laurawrzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose are forced by the TARDIS to the 52nd century, where they meet a Jack in the middle of his two years of missing memories fighting a gruesome biological war. Unable to leave, they must adopt fake identities under Jack's command, but if the Doctor and Rose are discovered for who they really are, death is inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> A/U where Ten, Rose and Jack are travelling together.

_"So you used to be a Time Agent, and now you're tryin' to con 'em?"_

" _If it makes me sound any better, I'm not in it for the money."_

" _For what?"_

" _Woke up one morning when I was still working for them, found they'd stolen two years of my memories. I'd like 'em back."_

" _They stole your memories?"_

" _Two years of my life, no idea what I did. Your friend over there doesn't trust me, and for all I know, he's right not to."_

* * *

"Jack!" the Doctor yelled whilst simultaneously hammering on the door of Jack's hotel room on Planet Plax for the fourth time that morning. "We're leaving!"

There was a muffled moan and the clear sound of shifting bed springs. "Doctor, why the hell now?" came the ex-Time Agent's reply.

"Because we've been waiting three hours for you!" the Doctor answered loudly, glancing a side look at Rose standing in the hallway next to him.

"Doctor, seriously, a few more hours?"

"What are you  _doing_ in there?" the Doctor asked, pulling down the handle and pushing the door open. Rose watched his expression change from mild irritation to absolute horror in the drop of a hat as he stared at the sight before him...

He quickly slammed the door shut again, staring at Rose with wide eyes. "Oh dear god," he muttered, looking very green as Rose snorted with laughter. "Do you even know her name?" he asked Jack through the door seriously.

"Err... Wanita?"

Rose giggled as the Doctor rolled his eyes. "We're leaving now," he said, ignoring his reply. "I'll come back in a few hours for you. If I feel like it."

There was the muffled squeal of a woman and it was a few moments before Jack replied.

"Better make that five hours, Doc."

The Doctor sighed. "Yessir," he said sarcastically and took Rose's hand, leading her away from the room door as quickly as possible.

* * *

"He  _has_  got talent," the Doctor admitted a few minutes later in the console room of the TARDIS, hammering a few buttons and staring at the monitor. "Only Jack could find a woman on an isolated planet populated exclusively by men."

"Maybe it wasn't a woman," Rose said thoughtfully.

The Doctor pulled a face. "It was a woman," he said straight. "Remind me never to open the door on Jack's room again."

Rose giggled again. "So where we going?"

"No idea," the Doctor said, tapping at the controls as the dematerialisation column began to move. "How about random?"

"More fun that way," Rose replied, her tongue between her teeth as she grinned at him.

He beamed in return. "Allons-y!" he yelled, and yanked down the handbrake. The TARDIS suddenly lurched and Rose squealed, grabbing onto the Doctor to stop herself from face-planting into the floor. Something was wrong. The entire console room seemed to twist and turn and change shape before their eyes, the Doctor yelling at the time machine and struggling to get her under control. After a few moments of a constant fairground ride he realised his efforts were completely fruitless, and he resigned to gripping the console with one hand and wrapping his other arm around Rose, trying to make sure they at least both stayed on their feet. As if trying to challenge this, the TARDIS did a final lurch and landed with a horrendous crash at their intended destination.

Suddenly the console exploded into a frenzy of beeps, flashing lights and alerts of every kind. The Doctor barely had any time to reach forward before the lights completely shut off and the entire room was cast in utter darkness.

For a moment they just breathed heavily in unison before the emergency lights came up and the masks dropped from the ceiling.

"You all right?" the Doctor asked Rose quickly, looking at her.

She nodded. "What the hell happened?"

"Not sure," the Doctor confessed, tapping ineffectually at a few buttons before whipping out his stethoscope and checking the column. "It's like she just had some kind of fit..."

"Is she okay?" Rose asked anxiously, resting her hand on some of the console buttons gently.

The Doctor didn't reply for a moment, checking the monitor. "Whatever happened, she's been hurt. She'll need some time to heal herself. We can't go anywhere for a bit."

"But we've landed, yeah? We're somewhere?" She started over to the doors but the Doctor quickly took her arm, his brow furrowed.

"Let me," he said, and pushed her back as he walked towards the doors. He took a breath, pulled them open... "Hmm," was all he said.

"What's out there?"

"Just some broken house," he informed her, stepping forward and beckoning her out at the same time. "Oxygen's fine, no radiation spikes... Maybe she just got a bug in the system..." He stepped forward as Rose closed the door behind them, and instantly the Time Lord rose a hand to his nose and mouth. "Oh, that's not a good smell."

Rose opened her mouth, about to say, "what smell?" when a very pungent and rancid smell hit her in the face like a sledgehammer from an angry builder. She instantly retched, coughing and choking before she put her arm over her nose mouth, trying to suppress the smell. It barely worked.

They were in a room in some kind of house, definitely. All the furniture was broken, the rugs stained, cobwebs hanging along the walls which were smashed in, while the ceiling had a massive hole in it. Rose looked a little further, and suddenly stiffened, realising instantaneously what the smell was.

It was a corpse.

Some poor man who had clearly died a violent death, bullet holes riddled in his clothes that were caked in dry blood. His discoloured body was bloated with gas and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets, his tongue so swollen it looked like some kind of overweight eel trying to escape his mouth.

She immediately retched and threw up on the floor. The Doctor came up behind her, resting a hand on her back.

"Go back into the Tardis," he said urgently.

Rose nodded, grateful to be able to leave. She started moving, but suddenly from above came some shouts of men, coming in their direction.

She looked back at the Doctor. "People?" she croaked.

The Doctor's expression seemed to harden, his boyish smile now replaced by something that Rose had seen only a few occasions before. The expression that meant that this was no longer a bit of trouble that they relished when travelling through time and space. This was serious - life and death - and suddenly Rose was absolutely terrified.

She didn't need telling twice. She turned to go back to the TARDIS, when suddenly something dropped down from the ceiling, hit the TARDIS in front of her and rebounded off onto the floor. Surprised, she looked down to see a small silver metal ball, a green light flashing wildly on its side.

"Grenade!" the Doctor yelled, yanking her back. There was no time for Rose to do anything but allow him to push her into the corner next to the corpse, before throwing himself just in time as the room seemed to explode.

Immediately a high, piercing whine was ringing in Rose's ears, her eyes seeing nothing but white. She blinked repeatedly, trying desperately to regain her senses until she managed to get a blurry view of nothing but the Doctor's chest pressed against her, shielding her from the blast.

"We've gotta go!" Rose blurted out, panicking as she tried to get up. "Doctor!"

But she realised in her stunned haze that as she was moving, the Doctor was sliding off of her without any effort on his part. He hit the floor with a dull thud, clearly unconscious.

"No!" she managed to squeak out as suddenly she was panicking like she'd never panicked before. The footsteps overhead were running, getting closer.

She didn't want to find out who, or indeed,  _what_ they belonged to.

She had to run. She grabbed the Doctor under his arms, stumbling as she struggled to balance herself through the ringing in her ears. She had to get to the TARDIS. She had to…

But as she looked up she realised the TARDIS was now not an escape route. The blast had caused some of the rubble to land in front of it, blocking off the entrance.

There was no time to even worry about it. She instinctively started dragging his limp body towards the door of the room. She had to drop him momentarily to try and push down the handle, but it was stuck.

"No!" she stressed, and began to ram it with her shoulder, throwing her entire weight against it as the footsteps above drew even closer. It began to shift, inch by agonising inch, until it finally burst open and she took the Doctor again, groaning with the strain.

She didn't even close the door or dare to look back at the room, just dragging the Doctor along a rubble-strewn corridor with every ounce of strength she could muster as fast as she could. Halfway down the corridor an explosion rocked the entire building, but she managed to keep her footing, and keep dragging. She kept going, following the corridor up to a turn, past a kitchen and into a dining room. More dead people were strewn across the floor, a family, gently rotting, but she had no time for that. She kept dragging the helpless Doctor, but then realised with a very sick feeling, that there was nowhere else to go.

The people were nearly on her and she had nowhere to hide.

This was it.

They were going to die.

She dropped down and wrapped herself around the Doctor, shaking with utter terror. She entangled her hand in his hair and pressed her cheek to his, purely out of instinct. She didn't even know why. It felt safer.

The footsteps poured into the room. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. She could only hope it would be quick.

"Declare yourself!" a man yelled, but she was so terrified she couldn't even raise her head. Her entire body was shaking badly, her breath coming out in quick, panicked gasps, tears falling from her eyes as she gripped the Doctor tighter.

"Declare yourself!" the man persisted.

They weren't shooting. Why weren't they shooting?

Rose managed to lift her head, looking in the low light to find a crowd of soldiers in black armour standing in formation, all pointing guns at her and the Doctor.

"Please don't shoot," she whined.

One of the men stepped forward into the light with his gun raised pointing straight at Rose, his hair dark, his eyes a shining blue, all pearly white teeth present and correct in the face of an  _extremely_ familiar man...

"I'm Cap'n Jack Harkness," he said without any hint of emotion, staring straight into her eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

Rose stared at him for a moment, completely speechless. It was Jack. Still with the same handsome face and dark hair that had become so familiar. But his face was younger, far more innocent, far less work done... he was not  _their_ Jack.

"Well? Name and ID," he demanded, tightening his grip on the gun, finger poised on the trigger...

"I... I'm R-Rose," Rose garbled, barely able to speak. "And this... this is the D-Doctor..." She indicated the Time Lord she was holding so tightly.

Jack blinked, lowering the gun instantly. "Medical?" He didn't wait for a reply. "About goddamn time, I've been asking NeoCorp for medical personnel for months." He grabbed the unconscious Doctor's shirt collar and pulled him roughly off of Rose, dropping him carelessly down onto the floor. Rose watched him in silence as he panned his gun up and down the Time Lord with his lips pursed, regarding the Doctor's body in every aspect presented. "Oh he's pretty. Hope I didn't kill him." He knelt down, hovering a hand over the Doctor's mouth to check his breathing. "Yeah, he's all right."

"Sir," one of the soldiers suddenly interrupted, sounding slightly nervous. "We need to move."

"I'm sorry, are you giving me orders now?" Jack asked sarcastically, rounding on the soldier and pointing his gun in their face. "Tell me sir, should I pull this trigger?"

The soldier swallowed. "No, sir," he said quickly. "Sorry sir."

Jack stared at him for a moment, before turning and grabbing the Doctor around the waist with one arm and hauling him over his shoulder. He waved his gun at Rose, gesturing for her to get up. "Follow me, soldier. We're going back to the stronghold."

Rose clambered to her feet quickly, staring at the Doctor still slung over Jack's shoulder as suddenly words came into her head, something she could say:

"We have to get back to our ship," she said quickly. "All our... ermm.. medical equipment is there."

Jack was moving towards the door. "You can kiss good bye to your ship. Probably got nuked the second you stepped out."

"But..."

He suddenly turned to look at her with narrowed eyes and she stopped dead in her tracks. "Sweetheart," he began. "In case Command didn't brief you on the general situation of how things go around here, let me spell it out for you. You're in the middle of a war. The other side want to kill you. You're on the front-line. If you stay in line, follow orders and do your job then maybe you might get through the rest of it without a body bag. Let's go."

* * *

The stronghold was exactly what Rose imagined a stronghold would look like. Underground metal rooms with hundreds of soldiers running around with guns in hand, even more lying on the floor covered in blood, just left there with seemingly no attempt to give medical help. It was in a complete mess, evidence of bombs having landed on the structure with many places collapsed in. More people were lying under the rubble, obviously very dead... and the smell indicated they'd been dead for a while. Rose was forcing back the urge to throw up as Jack dispersed his soldiers and beckoned her through to a side room where there was a rug in the corner, the floor covered in various bloody medical instruments rusted by time. Even the table at the side was broken in two.

"Hasn't been used for a while," Jack informed her as he dropped the Doctor down onto the rug. "Or last doctor got impaled on infrastructure in a bombardment a week after we arrived." He completely missed Rose's horrified stare at his throwaway statement. "Both of you come to the interrogation room at fifteen hundred hours and I'll debrief you. Enjoy your stay in paradise."

And with that, he disappeared out the door.

Rose stared after him for a moment. They couldn't stay here. She didn't  _want_  to stay here. She dropped down next to the Doctor lying haphazardly on the rug and shook his shoulder.

"Wake up," she whispered urgently. "Please, Doctor, please wake up..."

She sat by him for what felt like forever, just holding his hand and flinching every time someone came near the door.


	2. Barbie and Ken

The Doctor woke up, his head pulsating. He furrowed his brow and groaned his way to consciousness, before blinking open his eyes to meet the face of Rose Tyler, staring down at him anxiously.

"Hey," he said with a strained smile, hand moving to hold his head. "Ow. That hurt. I hate stun grenades. So impolite."

"Doctor," she said urgently.

For the first time he noticed her terrified expression. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Everything. Everything's wrong. We're in a war, Doctor, Jack's here, he's a Time Agent..."

"Wait, wait," the Doctor said quickly, struggling to sit up. "Just woke up, here. Slower."

She took a deep breath. She was shaking so badly that the Doctor instinctively wrapped an arm around her, slightly alarmed. He'd never seen her so terrified.

"These soldiers appeared and..." She took a few more breaths. "It's Jack, Doctor, it's Jack as a Time Agent. He doesn't know us. He thinks we're medical personnel or somethin'... We're in a War... There's dead bodies everywhere..."

The Doctor's hearts sank a little. Time Agents were notoriously ruthless and trained to kill anyone they didn't trust without hesitation. If they were alive, Jack believed their assumed identities.

"Hey, you did well," the Doctor told her honestly. "Where are we now?"

"Their stronghold," she said. "He wouldn't let us go back to the Tardis."

"We'll get there," the Doctor assured her. "This is too dangerous. The longer we stay the more he'll remember us, and the time-lines will collapse."

"He wants to debrief us at um... fifteen hundred hours."

He nodded. "Right, just enough time to invent a cover story." He pulled away from her, patting the rug beside him as an indication for her to sit. "Let's get to work."

* * *

"What are your names?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but Jack smoothly interrupted anything he might have said.

"You know, what, don't care," he said, regarding them both. "You're both pretty and plastic, I'll call you Barbie and Ken."

"Actually…" the Doctor began, but Jack wasn't listening.

"What are your ranks?"

"First Lieutenant," the Doctor told him.

"Private First Class," Rose said quickly.

"Who's your commanding officer?"

"Major Christian Slate," the Doctor replied without hesitation.

"Your IDs?"

"MED0124-9," the Doctor reeled off, and looked at Rose.

"MED0124-10," Rose stated.

"What's your unit?"

"Fourth Medical Battalion," the Doctor replied.

Jack nodded. As the Doctor suspected, he wasn't writing anything down. He highly doubted Jack would attempt to verify their identities. Thankfully.

"So what's the deal?" Jack asked, looking at the both of them. "You didn't bring your girlfriend to the war, did you?" He looked at Rose pointedly.

"She's my assistant," the Doctor told him. "Couldn't do it without her."

Jack just snorted through his nose, amused, glancing between them both before speaking once more, "did HQ brief you?"

The Doctor shook his head. "There wasn't time. We were deployed with the Twelfth Battalion on an intelligence operation and were dropped at point zero."

"Fuckin' NeoCorp," Jack swore. "Expect us to fight a war and won't even tell deployment what's going on."

"Tell me about it," the Doctor said, glancing at Rose who was just staring at Jack, wide-eyed.

"Sitrep," Jack began, leaning back casually in his chair. "The Exes have taken the capital, and with it one of our Generals. Twenty-one hundred hours we're doing a hostage rescue in their POW camp to get him out. We've got a diversion in place, half are being dispatched to draw the fire and the other half are going directly into the camp. Chances are he'll be injured so we'll need you in the field."

"Sounds fascinating. Thing is, we need to get back to our ship, that's where all our medical supplies are."

Jack just gazed at him, piercing, as if reading his soul. The Doctor maintained his confidence. Time Agents could read body language to such an expert level that they could almost tell what someone was thinking. Jack wouldn't get anything out of him. Rose, however…

Jack's gaze move to Rose, so the Doctor quickly spoke to draw the Time Agent's attention back to him, "I won't be able to do anything for the general without medical supplies."

"Your ship probably got blown up," Jack told him facetiously.

"She's pretty hardy."

"Not atom bomb hardy."

"I can't help him without supplies."

"You'll just have to do the best you can," Jack told him, perfectly calm.

"With wet wipes and plasters?" the Doctor wondered brazenly. "You're in charge, NeoCorp'll blame you first."

Jack offered a smile, though it didn't meet his eyes. "I don't care. Ain't me who's gonna get in the shit when the General arrives back at NeoCorp already rotting. That's your pleasure."

"Jack…"

"Try Captain," Jack interrupted.

The Doctor internally winced, and then immediately hoped that hadn't shown on his face. "Captain," he began again. "Chances are he's been tortured, and without the right…"

"Oh, shut up," Jack said, suddenly getting up. "We're done here. Go pack your wet wipes," he finished, and left before the Doctor could get another word in.

"Doctor?" Rose croaked.

The Doctor glanced up at the cameras in the corner of the room, and quickly shook his head at her. "Let's get prepared," he announced loudly before leading her back to the Medical Office.

* * *

"We can't get back to the Tardis," Rose said dully, her hands clutching a mug of some sort of hot drink that the Doctor had assured her had a relation to 21st century tea.

They were sitting on the rug bed, cross-legged, facing each other. While she was gripping her tea he was sitting with his hands clutched in front of him. His knuckles were a little too white for her liking. Outside she could hear the chatter of the soldiers, and occasionally the sound of a bomb going off outside the compound.

He looked at her, his eyes dark. "No," was all he said in reply.

"What're we gonna do?" she persisted. "Can't we run away?"

The Doctor sighed heavily, before finally looking up at her. "Do you know much about Time Agents?"

She shook her head.

"Time Agents, especially Jack's breed, are exceptionally dangerous. They're notoriously short tempered and trained to kill anyone they don't trust without hesitation. The fact we're still alive is actually quite lucky."

"Lucky?" Rose repeated, then quickly shook her head to force herself to move on the conversation. "So… if he catches us he kills us?"

The Doctor nodded. "No hesitation," he repeated. "They're trained in torture techniques, parapsychology, pinpoint accuracy, melee fighting… everything they need to follow orders and kill on command. The best soldiers the human race ever made. They can tell what people are thinking just through looking at their body language."

"Oh god," Rose moaned, taking another sip of tea. "We're dead."

"If we can slip out unnoticed we can get to the Tardis before he can find us," the Doctor told her. "It's just finding the moment."

She nodded, finishing the tea and setting it down. "So what's this war? Who are the Exes?"

The Doctor paused for a moment before answering, "have you ever watched Dawn of the Dead?"

"The zombie film?" she asked, confused. "Why… Oh god, you don't mean...?"

"Zombies," the Doctor confirmed, nodding. "At least, as close as you can get. In the 45th century there was a scientist who discovered the type of radiation that could actually cause zombie-like mutations in humans. Of course, being humans, they sealed it up in a secret government facility so they could use it for research. But in the early 52nd century, the facility was breached and the radiation escaped. The radiation got out, the people in the planet mutated. They called them Exes."

"Why?"

"Ex," he emphasised. " _Ex_ -human. Before the government could get rid of them it had spread across the entire planet. People who had been affected by the radiation had boarded star-ships before they could be quarantined and it spread throughout the entire galaxy. The government locked down the galaxy but by then the Exes were forming groups."

"... I take it these zombies ain't the slow-movin'  _braaaains_ type?"

He smiled a little at that. "No," he said, dropping his smile. "They were just as intelligent as normal humans, except they ate flesh, their greatest instinct was to kill, and they were practically immortal unless they were decapitated."

"So Jack's fightin' zombies," Rose summarised.

"Yep. Due to the rate of infection the Exes had all sorts on their side - Doctors, scientists, you name it. They made weapons to rival the government's. By the time the government got there to kill them, they were fighting back. Fully-fledged war broke out. The government started to lose, so they called in the Time Agents on contract to lead the attack, which is why Jack's here."

"How did it end?"

"The last Ex was eliminated by an unknown soldier on a planet called Owatta, seven years after the war broke out."

"So that was it?"

"Yep. The Time Agents pulled out and the government destroyed the entire galaxy."

"Like, blown up?"

"Yeah."

Rose nodded. "D'you know how far we're into the war?"

"No," he confessed. "I'm not even sure what planet we're on."

Rose nodded again. "Either way we need to get out."

"Agreed," he finished, before there was suddenly there was the sound a well-timed bomb outside in the distance, shaking the room.

He looked at Rose. "You all right?" he suddenly asked.

Rose nodded. "Yeah. Just about."

He nodded in return. "Get some sleep," he advised her. "Just do what I say tonight and we should get through it."

She gave a half-smile but chose not to say anything, dropping to curl up on the rug. It barely offered any comfort, but she didn't even care. She already knew with everything that was running through her head she was unlikely to sleep, but she could try.

About two minutes after she put her head down, she heard the Doctor leave the room. Immediately the safety she had felt while she was with him evaporated into thin air.

* * *

The Doctor strolled through the compound, surveying it as best he could. It was incredibly ram-shackled and falling apart. At one time it probably had  _been_ a stronghold, but no longer. It had been bombed so many times that one or two more direct impacts would probably case the entire place to collapse.

He was standing in a large room filled with chattering soldiers, playing cards and dice on a flat metal floor. Attached to it in front of him was another large room stacked high with beds with toilets attached. His and Rose's Medical Office was on the right near what probably at one time had been a ward, but was now a rubbish tip, and Jack's private quarters were on the other side. Next to Jack's room was the mess, quite literally; a dining area in an utter mess. There was also the interrogation room, and attached to that some holding cells. There had been no attempt to try and clean up or repair the place. Clearly NeoCorp, the armed force's government body, hadn't seen fit to maintain this place despite the fact it was on the front line.

His priority was to check the exits - just the one behind him, which was posted with a handful of armed soldiers. Getting out would be difficult.

Directly in front of him was a ceiling collapse, several men trapped underneath and left there. He pulled out some latex gloves from his pocket and slipped them on, inviting some gambling soldiers to help him shift some rubble to pull out the body of an unfortunate young man - couldn't have been more than eighteen.

"When did this ceiling collapse?" the Doctor asked one of the soldiers.

"A few days ago, sir," one of the soldiers replied, saluting and leaving.

The Doctor checked the boy's pulse, not that he expected to find anything. He didn't. He was already in secondary flaccidity.

He pulled out the next body. No heartbeat or pulse, but he was now in rigor mortis. It was only a few hours since he'd died.

Alarmed, the Doctor went to the next body. He pulled out a young blond man, blood caking his face. He checked his heartbeat. Nothing. Next body. Nothing.

Every single one was dead.

If he'd addressed this only hours recently he might have been able to save some of them.

He looked around at the chattering soldiers, suddenly feeling nothing but contempt for them. They'd completely abandoned their comrades to die when a few could have been saved. As a soldier he'd never have done that. It was unwritten law. You went back for your comrades.

Suddenly a fight broke out across the compound - shouting. He got up and went to look, joining the fast-gathering crowd of onlookers and finding two soldiers attacking each other.

"Hey!" the Doctor interrupted, darting forward to stop them. "What's going on?"

As one soldier, blond, staggered from a blow to the head, the other one, black-haired, roughly pushed the Doctor away, sending him crashing to the floor. "Get out of it," he spat, and launched another punch.

The Doctor got up again immediately, pulling off his gloves and throwing himself between the two of them, holding up his hands to defend the blond soldier. Despite this, the black-haired soldier threw another punch which the Doctor deftly dodged.

"Leave it!" the Doctor yelled.

The black-haired soldier's eyes narrowed, before he spat on the Doctor's shoes and stormed off. The Doctor watched him leave before turning back to the blond soldier who was bleeding from a split lip.

"I'm a doctor," the Doctor said, taking his arm. "Let's clean you up."

The blond soldier took one look around at the yelling crowd and quickly pulled away from him. "No," was all he said, and ran off to a chorus of mocks and jeers.

The crowd very quickly dispersed after that. The Doctor got the distinct feeling that this sort of thing tended to happen a lot.

A fighting force that was so fractured that the soldiers turned on each other?

Something had gone  _terribly_ wrong here.

"Ken," suddenly came a voice from behind him, and the Doctor turned to see Jack standing there balancing a large gun on his shoulders, smiling charismatically. "You lost?"

The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly. He couldn't help it. "There's the bodies of some men over there," he said, pointing at the poor men he'd pulled out of the rubble. "We need to bury them."

Jack snorted with laughter. "And where d'you propose we do that? There's bombs raining on us all day. We've hardly got time to dig graves and say some shitty little prayers."

The Doctor fumed a little, but tried to come from a different angle. "They'll decompose and your entire command will be very sick if they're not moved."

"We'll chuck 'em out with the next rubbish collection," Jack told him brazenly.

"... Rubbish?" the Doctor repeated, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

"You don't get into a lot of wars, do you?" Jack said patronisingly, walking towards the kitchen. "Welcome to reality, Ken!" he threw over his shoulder as he disappeared.

The Doctor almost felt sick with anger. He had to physically calm himself down by taking a few deep, measured breaths, before his head cleared enough to realise that this meant Jack's office was now vacant.

* * *

The Doctor slipped into the room. There wasn't much. Some firearms, a bed, a table with a chair and an information terminal.

The Doctor went to the terminal, pulling out his sonic to buzz it. The access unlocked and he found himself in a database. The timestamp was displayed clearly in the corner.

**Owatta, 6.2:3:5119 Modern Era**

The Doctor rolled the date about in his head for a moment. 5119 - two years before the end of the war. They were on Owatta too - the place it had ended.

He began to root through the database, tapping icons until he found the profile of Jack Harkness.

**Captain Jack Harkness**

**Time Agent deployed to field in 7.9:9:5117. Assigned to lead a small front line regiment, Owatta.**

That was all.

That meant Jack had been fighting for two years. Two years on the front line. No wonder he had gone insane.

Suddenly there came the sound of footsteps making their way towards the door. The Doctor quickly switched off the terminal and pressed himself up against the wall behind the door, taking a breath try and keep quiet as the door opened and Jack entered.

The Doctor had no escape route. He stood there, utterly silent, staring at the Time Agent as he dropped a bowl of vile-looking food on the table. He then turned back to his bed, looking for something.

A plan forming, the Doctor quickly took out his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at Jack's fork. The fork instantly magnetised to his sonic, flying towards him. He caught it, prongs first, having to bite his tongue to stop himself crying out in pain. As he recovered, Jack went back to the table, realised his didn't have a fork and harrumphed, turning back to the door.

The Doctor had to dive behind the terminal to avoid Jack seeing him as he stormed back out of the room.

The Doctor didn't wait to leave.


	3. Ex

A large group of soldiers, Jack, Rose and the Doctor included left at 9 o'clock that night, marching across the wasteland that used to be the beautiful plains of Owatta.

Nothing in sight was in one piece. There were numerous fires receding into the horizon, dead bodies, wailing sirens and distant bursts of gunfire and lasers. Rose remained close to the Doctor, who kept looking at her as they were marched at quite a pace by Jack across the plains.

Another explosion ripped out, about twenty metres from the group, throwing them off their feet. Rose immediately curled up instinctively, but thankfully soon felt the Doctor's arms around her.

"All right?" he asked quietly in her ear.

She opened her eyes to look up at him. "Yeah," she croaked.

She could see in his eyes that he didn't believe her. Which was fair enough. Because she  _was_ lying _._

She'd been to so many places. Of course she'd seen death before with the Doctor. She'd been in the middle of wars. In fact, she'd hung in the middle of London during the Blitz in a shirt emblazoned with the Union Jack, but right now she'd never seen so much travesty of life. The soldiers left to die under the rubble. The dead working like a macabre patchwork quilt over the plains, unburied, uncared for. Malformed, bloody bodies. Occasionally her foot would catch on a body and the head would just roll off like a football.

It was disturbing that she was getting used to it. All those soldiers from the wars, shell shock, PTSD - now she got it. She understood it. Maybe, just maybe, she was now part of it.

And that was terrifying.

He knew that. Of course he did. He knew exactly what she was thinking. But he didn't voice it, he just offered an encouraging smile and helped her to her feet.

"Keep moving!" Jack yelled.

They both obeyed, the Doctor keeping his hand firmly in hers as they marched once again. When more bombs went off he gripped her hand even tighter. She was  _so_ grateful that he kept it there throughout the rest of the march, never letting go, despite Jack's pointed glances at them. His hand was more reassuring than holding a potion of life.

They finally reached where they were going - a sewer long out of use, yet still smelt awful. She resisted the urge to cover her nose, steeling herself against the smell as Jack halted and turned.

"Right. Blue group, you're the decoys, head left. You know what you gotta do. Red group, you're with me, we're going right. We'll retrieve the General. Move out!"

The Doctor and Rose made to go right, but Jack suddenly stopped them.

"No, Barbie, you're with them," he said, pointing at the decoy group.

Rose shrank back, alarmed.

"No," the Doctor said immediately. "She's with us."

"We need medical with them," Jack replied, slightly irritated.

"She's still in training," the Doctor persisted. His hand was holding hers even tighter now.

"I don't care," Jack spat.

"Jack…"

" _Sir!_ " Jack suddenly yelled, his eyes afire as he gazed at the Doctor, as if  _daring_ him to antagonise him.

"Sir," the Doctor amended quickly, bowing his head slightly. "She's not competent enough to be on her-"

"I don't  _give a shit!"_ Jack burst out, screaming it in the Doctor's face. "She goes where she's  _needed_ , if NeoCorp sent her out to the front-line she's  _expected_ to do her duty and if that doesn't fit with you two obviously fucking each other that's not my problem!"

Rose glanced nervously at the Doctor. His hand had abruptly slipped out of hers. He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes briefly before refocusing on the angry Time Agent in front of him.

"Okay," the Doctor said, nodding. "Just let me prep her."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Be  _quick_ about it," he spat.

The Doctor took her arm and led her away. When they were a sufficient distance Rose grabbed desperately onto his arm, gazing up at him. She couldn't tell, but she was probably sheet white. "Doctor…"

"I know, I know," the Doctor repeated, looking pained. "But we can't go against his orders. He's our superior. We'd be branded as cowards."

"Coward's better than being dead," she pointed out desperately.

"We'd be tried and put into a penal colony for hard labour," he said. "That's if Jack doesn't shoot us through the head first."

"But I can't do this," Rose whined.

"You can, I promise," he insisted.

"I can't leave you…"

"You'll be okay," he reaffirmed, and pulled off his backpack - the one they had packed earlier with medical equipment they'd managed to scavenge from around the stronghold and the Doctor's pockets. "Take this."

Rose looked at it, wide-eyed. "But… But you need this for the General."

"I'll manage, now listen," he said, dropping to his knees and beckoning her down with him. He pulled out a packet of long green tubes. "This is painkiller. The end snaps off, like this." He demonstrated in a mime. "Stab it anywhere near the injury, it's effective almost immediately. Any blood, put pressure on it and wrap it up firmly. Any impalement, don't take it out, just bandage it up and bring the person back to me. Any broken limbs just split them by tying the limb to a board. Gunshot wounds, if you can see the bullet try and extract it with tweezers, if you can't, just apply pressure and use a blood bag if you have to. These bags," - he held up one - "are for any blood type. And most importantly, don't forget this, if you're in danger, you  _run_. Just get out of there. Stay alive. I'll find you."

"God, this is really happenin'," Rose whined, head in her hands.

"You'll be okay," the Doctor said again firmly, zipping up the backpack. "I believe in you."

"It's not me," Rose said, so low she was almost whispering. "What if… What if you don't come back?"

"I will."

"But what if you don't?"

"I promise I'll come back. Just like you I'll be skedaddling like Road Runner at the first sign of trouble."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "Okay," she finally breathed.

He hugged her. "It'll be over soon."

"Be careful," she whispered over his shoulder.

He drew back, gazing at her for another moment. "You too."

She took the backpack he proffered and hauled it onto her shoulders, tightening the straps. He gave her one final squeeze on the arm, and they went back to Jack, who was waiting with a raised eyebrows.

"When you're quite done," he said, deadpan.

"Sorry, sir," the Doctor said, following the group to the right as Rose joined the left.

The last she saw of him was him giving her a wink before he and Jack disappeared from view.

* * *

They had been walking for what felt like hours before Jack dropped back to walk alongside the Doctor, holding out a pistol.

"Yours," he said.

The Doctor looked at it, and then looked away again. "No thanks."

"You don't have a piece," Jack insisted, almost shoving it into his side. "Take it."

"I don't need it," the Doctor replied shortly.

"What're you planning to hit them with? Your hair gel?" Jack said pointedly, looking at his hair.

"I don't shoot guns."

"A First Lieutenant who ain't taken a shot? I find that hard to believe."

The Doctor stopped. Jack stopped with him.

"I'm a doctor," the Doctor stated, staring hard into Jack's eyes. "I  _don't inflict wounds_ ," he grated.

Jack didn't seem to notice his tone. "Take the damn pistol," he stated. "I won't have soldiers who can't defend themselves. Can't spend all my time worrying about you."

The Doctor sighed, taking the pistol. Jack nodded approving, just before the Doctor flicked off the safety, pointed his gun back the way they'd came and fired, and kept firing, until all the power was drained.

He then handed the weapon back to Jack. "I'm out of rounds," he stated, then started walking again.

Jack caught up with him again. "You're unbelievable."

"Been told that before," the Doctor assured him.

"What if your girlfriend was being shot at? Would you take it then?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"No, of course not," Jack said sarcastically. "Now, I don't care about soldiers fraternising but when they do it to the point of refusing their duties that's when I start getting a little pissed. What then, is she just a casual fuck?"

The Doctor fumed, but he kept it under wraps. "We're colleagues, I'm training her, she's my responsibility," he said, and sped up.

"I mean," Jack continued, catching up again. "I wouldn't blame ya. She's hot. I'd do her myself if she didn't stop looking at you."

The Doctor didn't reply.

"I've never seen a girl so in love. Literally, she just won't stop staring at you. I can't even get a look in."

The Doctor suddenly rounded on him, angry. "Leave her alone," he spat.

"Whoa, Ken," Jack said, laughing humourlessly and holding up his hands in defence. "No need to get touchy."

The Doctor spun on his heel again and kept on walking.

"Whoa, walking away from your commanding officer?" Jack taunted. "I could shoot you for insubordination!"

The Doctor stopped for a third time and threw his arms up into the air. "Go on, then!" he invited.

Jack paused, staring at him with a fierce look. This time he was the one to march off, leaving the Doctor behind.

For a moment the Doctor just stared after him. Keeping a low profile didn't seem to be working. Sometimes his mouth had a mind of its own. But at least the time lines hadn't collapsed yet. That was surely only a good sign.

* * *

_"I believe in you."_

The Doctor's words were circling in her head, and Rose was trying desperately to keep them there, repeating over and over again as she followed the blue group further down the sewers. She was clutching the strap of the backpack the Doctor had given her so hard that her knuckles were completely white. But she wasn't about to let go.

_"I believe in you."_

The soldiers were chatting amongst themselves, talking about things Rose couldn't make sense of. TV programmes she'd never seen, planets she'd never heard of and politicians she'd never listened to. They were all alien names and concepts; so far removed from her reality that she couldn't even begin to process them.

_"I believe in you."_

Before she had come here she would've embraced their conversation. Tried to be a part of it. But the ever-present sense of foreboding that they were all about to get blown to smithereens deterred any prerogative she had for small talk. How could they walk through enemy sewers about to enter into what could probably be the last thing they ever did, talking about some show called 'Androids'?

_"I believe in you."_

This wasn't fun. This wasn't swashbuckling space travel with the Doctor. This was awful. This was worse than every documentary she'd seen on World War 1 and 2 put together. During her GCSEs she'd studied the rise of Hitler and they'd watched a documentary on the Holocaust at the end of term, which showed the pictures of the bodies stacked up on top of another - from the elderly to babies - robbed of life through murder.

But they'd been in pictures. Part of history. It felt like history too - something in the far distant past. She hadn't known those poor people. It was just a collage of photographs.

Not like this.

Now the bodies were in front of her.

_"I believe in you."_

"Right boys and girls, chances are this'll be a right clusterfuck so it's every man and woman for themselves," one of the men said as they reached the sewer exit. "Just run, burst fire, run, burst fire and get to the other side. Ma'am?"

Rose jumped, realising he was addressing her. "...Y-yeah?" she stammered out.

"On your command," he said.

"Me?" Rose asked, but then quickly realised as the Doctor had told her to assume the position of a First Class Private, that actually made her highest ranked soldier here. "Oh. Um. Now, I guess," she stammered, and as they gazed at her with raised eyebrows she quickly cleared her throat and tried again. "Move out!"

The soldiers charged.

* * *

The bursts of gunfire and abrupt increase in explosions overhead meant the blue group had started their decoy operation. The Doctor ran a hand down his face. Rose was up there. She'd be okay, wouldn't she?

"We're here," Jack said, and started running. The Doctor purposely kept a few paces behind the group, anticipating for the walls to come down at any moments.

The Exes guarding the door to the cells immediately ran off at the sound of the fighting outside, leaving the entrance clear. The red group piled inside and kept running.

* * *

Rose ran quite literally for her life. She had a gun but she wasn't about to fire it, so was just holding it for protection as she charged as fast as she could across the open field thinking about nothing but getting to the other side.

Somehow, she got there.

She dived behind concrete for protection, gasping for air. She hadn't breathed during her run and was feeling quite,  _quite_ faint. So she took a few moments to just breathe, before there was a sudden movement from next to her.

She sprang back in fright before her eyes focused and she saw that it was small girl, probably no older than five or six.

"Help," the little girl whined.

Rose dived forward to gather her in a hug. "Don't worry, it's okay. We're safe here."

The little girl sobbed in reply, shaking in Rose's arms.

"What's your name?" Rose asked gently.

"Elizabeth."

"That's a beautiful name," Rose said. "I'm Rose. How did you get here?"

"Mummy and Daddy are Exes," the girl sobbed.

Rose held her even tighter. "It's okay, I'll look after you. You're safe with me, yeah?"

The girl nodded and clung onto her desperately just as some of the soldiers piled in. They caught sight of the girl, and immediately raised their weapons.

"Let go of her, ma'am!" a soldier yelled.

Rose suddenly felt angry at the soldier's callousness. "Drop your guns!"

"She might be dangerous!"

"She's just a girl, how the hell is she dangerous!?"

"She might be an Ex!" the soldier yelled. "Move away!"

"She's not, just look at her!" Rose snapped, getting to her feet to confront him. "Leave her alone!"

The soldier backed off. She was his superior. He had to obey.

Another soldier suddenly came in, clutching at his side. "Ma'am," he gasped, before dropping to the floor with blood seeping between his fingers. Rose rushed forward immediately, a new kind of bravery instilling itself within her. She pulled off her backpack and unfastened his armour from the side straps, quickly checking the wound whilst wiping at the blood with a rag.

"Okay, stay still," she said, pulling out one of the painkillers. Just as the Doctor has described she snapped off the top and stabbed it into his belly. Then she pulled out the tweezer-like instrument and pulled back his skin. "I need some light!"

One of the soldiers obliged, pulling out a torch for her. She looked again. She could see the bullet - it wasn't deep. His armour seemed to have lessened the impact, just as armour should.

"Okay, I think I can take it out," she said. "Just stay still."

She didn't notice the girl getting up behind her, gazing at the soldier who was holding the torch. She was far too busy pulling apart the soldier's skin and reaching in with her tweezers. It took precision, but after a moment's struggle she managed to clasp the bullet between the prongs, and pull it out. Fresh blood came with it so she quickly covered the wound, packing it and pressing down.

"I did it," Rose muttered under her breath, wide-eyed. "I did it…"

The soldier holding the torch next to her suddenly screamed. Rose looked up in shock to see the girl had launched herself onto him, her teeth sank into his shoulder and her nails scratching harshly at his chest. He screamed and flailed, desperately trying to get her off but she resolutely remained attached, thick blood coursing down from around her teeth still stuck in his shoulder.

"Get her off!" he howled, suddenly crying profusely. In the commotion one of the other soldiers stepped forward and shot the little girl directly in the back of the head. She hit the floor almost immediately, for a moment twitching and giving out strangled, horrible cries before finally collapsing, dead.

Rose suddenly couldn't breathe. It had happened so quick, and now the attacked soldier was standing there, crying and holding his shoulder.

She was medical. It was up to her. She made to get up but the soldier who had shot the girl stopped her.

"Don't touch him, ma'am," he said lowly.

"Why not?" she asked, confused.

"You've k-killed me!" the soldier rasped, pointing a bloody, accusatory finger at her.

Then she realised. She'd seen enough zombie films to know what would happen next. "Oh god no," she whispered, shaking.

"Sh-shoot me," the soldier gasped, suddenly collapsing to the floor. "Pl-please... k-kill... m-me."

The soldier who had held her back stepped forward, raising his gun.

"Godspeed," he said to the bleeding men.

" _DO IT!_ " the man screamed, his mouth filling with blood as he struggled on the floor…

The soldier next to her took a single shot, right through the middle of his comrade's forehead.

Then it was over.

"... Is the Ex dead?" Rose almost whispered.

"Yes," the soldier replied, and shot her a stinging look. Just like the rest of them, and standing there staring at her with contempt.

It was her fault.

* * *

The blue group reached a large cell, in which were crammed tens of humans packed like sardines in variating states of both life and decay. Then there was the General, still in his uniform, although tatty, banging desperately on the bars. He was a little on the large side, the stereotypical General.

"Captain!" he yelled.

Jack blasted at the rudimentary lock to the cell and helped the General out, pointing him towards the Doctor. "He's medical, sir."

"I don't need medical, I'm fine!" the General boomed louder than to blast of a bomb overhead. The ceiling seemed to shift. "Get moving, squadron!"

The blue group turned back and went back the way they'd come. The Doctor didn't move, just staring at the people inside the cell. There were some alive.

"Ken!" Jack's voice yelled from down the corridor. "Get moving!"

The Doctor paused, hesitating. But his decision was already made. He couldn't leave these people. He ran into the cell, freeing some of the men.

"Ken!" Jack's voice yelled again, closer. The Doctor looked up to see him staring into the cell. "Forget them, get moving!"

"But they're still alive!" the Doctor yelled back.

"We can't take them with us, do  _not_ defy my orders!"

"I'm sorry!" the Doctor yelled back, helping a man to his feet. "I'll be there in a minute!"

Jack fumed, but despite this, ran in to help evacuate the prisoners that could walk. Within minutes they had them out, but there were still some injured soldiers on the floor, the Doctor moved to help them.

"Leave them, Ken!" Jack yelled, hanging at the door to the cell.

"We can save them!" the Doctor insisted as another blast came from overhead. Only this time the ceiling didn't just shift. The Doctor didn't have time to move - he just stood there, nowhere to go, before the ceiling completely collapsed on top of him.

* * *

Jack dived forward immediately. "Lieutenant!" he shouted, pulling at the rubble. "Lieutenant!"

He couldn't find him, seemingly lost under the concrete. Jack could see blood though, making a thin river from out between the rocks.

Jack winced as another bomb came close to them, and the ceiling shifted even more. There was no way anyone could have survived that, and he had to go.

Jack turned and waved to his soldiers. "Move out!"

Then he left, leaving the brown-haired man under the rubble, most likely dead.


	4. Back from the Dead

Rose waited, sitting curled into the foetal position in the medical office of the stronghold, just staring blindly at the wall.

The Doctor and Jack weren't back yet.

She didn't know why she was so worried. If anyone in the universe could handle themselves, it was the Doctor. He was invincible on a bad day.

So she waited, and waited.

Finally she heard the entrance open and the deep tones of Jack through the wall. She got up quickly, running out of the door to meet the group. She scoured, but couldn't see the Doctor among them. Then Jack caught her gaze, and his face turned slightly. If Rose didn't know any better, she'd say that was an apologetic look…

"No," she breathed, immediately realising what that meant.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Jack told her, taking her arm to pull her aside from the crowd. "The ceiling caved in and he was underneath. There was no point digging him out."

Rose flinched slightly as the thought of that ran through her head. Then she looked at him, narrowing her eyes sightly. "Wait… you just left him?"

"No one coulda survived that," he countered. "Four feet of concrete straight on his head."

"No..." Rose muttered, her eyes searching the ground. "He isn't like that, he's not dead..."

"Sorry," Jack said again. "I know you two were close."

Rose yanked her arm away from his grip. "No," she burst out, turning to the door. "I'm gonna find him."

Jack grabbed her arm again. "What? He's dead, Private. You've got people to help her-"

"He's alive!" Rose interrupted firmly, trying to pull her arm away again but his grip was too firm. "Let go of me! I need to find him!"

Jack just wrapped his arms around her, dragging her kicking and screaming to the medical office. He threw her inside, and before she could get back to the door he'd locked it.

"Cool off, Private!" he shouted through the metal.

"Let me out! He's not dead! I know he's not dead!" Rose screamed, banging her fist on the door. "Let me  _out!"_

But she could hear his footsteps, walking away from her.

* * *

The Doctor's head was so painful he could barely open his eyes. He didn't even known how he managed it when he finally accomplished it, but it didn't matter anyway, the world was incredibly dark and blurry and no improvement at all to them being closed.

He coughed slightly, dust flying. His leg was screaming with even more pain than his head and there was a huge weight on top of him, crushing the very air out of his lungs. His arms were pinned down beneath his chest awkwardly. He couldn't remember how he'd got here, or even where he was. But it was clear he  _really_ had to get out.

Since his arms were pinned beneath him, his hands were partially numb, so for a moment he just clenched and unclenched his fists to try and get some blood to them. Then he manoeuvred his arms, ever so carefully, towards his inside jacket pocket where he could feel his sonic screwdriver pressed into his chest. After a moment's fumbling he managed to get it out, and pointed it with awkward posture at the concrete directly in front of him. He adjusted the setting, and pressed the button.

_BANG!_

The concrete exploded out in front of him, hitting something metal across the room. There were several gasps and cries of alarm. He had company.

He put the sonic back and began to pull himself out, trying not to put any undue pressure on his right leg. The concrete on top of him made this almost impossible, but he  _had_ to get out.

Eventually he managed to get his top half out, coughing and choking in the dust. He could see the people who had gasped - soldiers in the cell, now just staring at him in pure bewilderment. He looked back at the rubble - daylight above the collapse, and the clear signs that the ceiling and wall had fallen in. Obviously what had happened was he'd been standing there when the ceiling had collapsed - straight onto his head. No wonder his skull felt like it had been split into two.

They had every right to looked bewildered, he supposed. He should probably be dead. Wait. Had he died? He quickly ran his hands up through his hair, which was drowned in dust. But nope, same massive hair, sideburns and thin face. He rolled back his shoulders to check for the mole. Yep. Same body.

He looked back at his predicament - his legs were trapped under a massive slab of concrete. Through his jumbled head he realised that the massive concrete wall was probably what had saved him, collapsing on him to protect him from the rest of the debris. Sure, it had knocked him out, left him with a significant concussion and what felt like a savagely broken leg, but alive, nonetheless.

He leaned forward and gripped the edge of the concrete. Almost immediately the concrete split apart and the concrete on top shifted, straight down onto his broken leg.

He shrieked in pain, and in the panic pulled his legs desperately out of the debris. With a bit more screaming and a lot more pain he managed to get them out, scrambling away from the last of the debris as it fell exactly where he'd been sitting.

His leg was bleeding. He couldn't see the detail through his blurred vision, but blood could only mean it was a compound fracture and he had nothing to treat it with. So he pulled off his coat and then his jacket, and reached forward to tie the jacket firmly around his mangled leg to try and stiffen the bone and stop it bleeding at the same time, gasping with pain as he did so. He couldn't bear to look at it. Not yet. It would just make it hurt even more. Even his extra flood of endorphins wasn't helping to numb the pain. Wincing, he pulled on his coat back on.

But that didn't matter. He had to find Rose.

He coughed again, grabbed onto a hold in the wall and pulled himself up. For a moment he just swayed, feeling quite drunk, until he managed to get some sort of centre of balance. He pulled his hands through his hair and patted down his coat and trousers, trying to get the dust off of him. It did nothing.

Then, standing on one leg, he turned to the astonished crowd, still staring transfixed at him. He gave a brief smile and thumbs up.

"If you can walk... come with me," he said disjointedly through his pained head, aiming the sonic towards the chains holding them. The bonds split apart almost immediately. "I can't... carry you... I'm sorry."

A few of the men stepped forward, rubbing at their wrists where the chains had rested. They all looked half-starved, hollowed cheeks and dark eyes. None of them seemed to be able to process the man seemingly rising from the dead in front of their eyes and the fact this was an escape at the same time.

"There's a... stronghold," the Doctor told them collectively. "I'm going... back there... If you can... take a passenger... please do."

They all nodded in sync.

* * *

Jack kept Rose locked in there for the entire night, and in that she had gone from feeling impossibly angry to feeling utterly numb.

He couldn't die. He'd just regenerate, surely?

But he'd told her after his previous regeneration. There were certain methods of death he couldn't regenerate from, most of them involving his head. And if a giant block of concrete had fallen onto his head, there was a very good chance that he was definitely dead.

If he really  _was_ dead… What was she going to do without him? She needed to get back to the TARDIS, where the emergency program would activate and take her home.

But how could she do that? How could she just leave him all alone? Trapped under a pile of concrete, left to rot on a hostile world of merciless and mutant humans?

If he was here, he'd been yelling at her to just leave his body and go back to the TARDIS. But he wasn't here, so she wasn't listening to his voice in her head. She'd find him. On the next mission, she would sneak away from the group and get his body to take it to the TARDIS. He needed a proper burial. He deserved more of course, but it was the best she could give him. She'd bury him on Earth, his second home, visit his grave every day with fresh flowers.

And then she began to cry.

No. She stopped herself, forcing back the sobs. This wasn't right. She was grieving for him. Why was she grieving? She'd not seen his body. There was no actual  _proof_ he was dead…

Albeit, a highly likely possibility.

Her head had already accepted his death, and her heart was fighting a losing battle. After a small, wild struggle with her rationality, her heart finally gave up and she let the bitter tears fall.

There was a voice from outside, and suddenly the door of her room opened. There stood a soldier, staring at her.

"What?" she spat out through her tears.

"Might wanna get out here," he told her, and walked off.

Rose could have spat bile at him with the amount of poison she could taste in her mouth. She turned over and curled into herself, refusing to obey orders. She had no part in this war. A war that had killed the Doctor. They could all get stuffed.

"Rose!"

Rose's breath caught in he throat in mid-intake. Then she was up, running out of the door to see the Doctor standing there surrounded by astonished soldiers, covered in blood and dust but very much alive.

He broadened a grin at her. "Hello," he said, waving.

She ran up to him and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He winced in her tight grip, so she quickly relented.

"Sorry!" sh said quickly, beaming from ear-to-ear. "Oh god, I thought you were dead!"

"Oh, come on... You know me better… than that," he jested in a pained breath, winking.

"What the hell!?" Jack had arrived, gaping at the Doctor. "But you were… It was… The ceiling collapsed on you!" he stammered.

"The ceiling... yes, but before that... the wall, which protected... me," the Doctor told him through strain breaths for air, though somewhat blasé.

"No," Jack concluded, walking around him, panning him up and down. "You got out of  _that?"_

"Apparently..."

"T-that's not normal," Jack stammered. It was the first time Rose had seen him almost completely speechless.

"Yeah, that's me... not normal," the Doctor agreed.

"No. That's impossible," Jack reiterated. "Men have died from far less than that."

"Just lucky," the Doctor said.

"No fucking way that was just lucky," Jack swore. "Are you an android?"

"Nope," the Doctor replied. "Sorry... If you don't mind... I  _really_ need... a painkiller."

The Doctor helped himself to Rose's shoulder, leaning on her. She obediently secured his arm in place so he didn't have to put any pressure on his leg, before taking him towards the medical room.

* * *

The Doctor collapsed onto the rug, promptly letting out a cry. Rose quickly caught him before he fell back.

"Thanks," he breathed, shuffling carefully back to lean against the wall, leaving his leg outstretched. He looked at her kneeling down next to him, waiting for instruction.

"Sorry," he began, wincing. "Painkiller first… Please."

She nodded, efficiently retrieving one of the capsules, snapping off the end and stabbing it into his thigh. He shuddered a little at the impact, but after a moment the pain began to subside, at least, enough for him to think straight.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, and opened his eyes again. "Thanks," he repeated. "Now this bit you're not going to like."

"What?"

"I think it's a compound fracture," he said. "Which means I think my bone broke my skin."

She visibly steeled herself, nodded, and began to undo the rudimentary bandages. Soon his leg was exposed and he watched her carefully as she looked.

"It's not broken through the skin," Rose told him.

The Doctor leaned forward to look at it. It was fairly intact, apart from deep dark bruising from his ankle to over his kneecap and a large laceration courtesy of where he'd dragged it out from under the concrete. He could see the displacement of the broken bone, though.

"Want me to clean it?" Rose asked, already reaching for the antiseptic wipes.

The Doctor nodded. At least it wasn't open.

Rose obediently cleaned it up, and followed his direction in bandaging and splinting it with some of the longer rusty blunt medical instruments. It was all they had.

"This isn't gonna heal, is it?" she realised as she finished, pulling back to check her work.

He shook his head. "Not until I can reset it in the Tardis."

"So you can't walk?"

He knew what she was hinting at. "I can limp. We can escape."

"How fast can you limp?"

He pulled a face. "Rose… Just leave, okay?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, shuffling to his head. "Right, lemme clean your head up."

"Rose, please, just go," he repeated.

She pulled another antiseptic wipe seemingly out of thin air, took his chin in her other hand and began to dab at his head wound carefully. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not just runnin' off an leavin' you here, yeah? We're doin' this together."

"This is dangerous. You need to leave."

"Well, I'm not," she told him informatively, spreading a slight grin. "You're stuck with me."

He gazed at her for a long moment as she worked. She was hiding something. "... What happened today?"

She paused in her dabbing, looking at him, her face falling. "Nothin', don't worry," she murmured.

"Tell me."

She sighed and refocused herself back on his head. Then she told him everything about the little girl and the poor soldier she had condemned to death.

"It wasn't your fault," the Doctor stressed when she'd finished. "You didn't know."

"It was and you know it," Rose replied honestly.

He thought about that for a moment, before sticking up a hand. "Help me up."

She obliged, but looked confused. "What?"

"You've been saving lives today, Rose Tyler, you saved that soldier," he reminded her. "Don't call it day. Come on, we've got lots of injured people to attend to and I need your help." He gestured to his leg in indication. "Can't do it on my own now, can I? Then we're going to sleep. Okay?"

A brief, watery smile came across her. "Okay."


	5. Nightmares

They'd spent three hours so far treating the injured men. There were so many of them.

They'd had to prioritise them from the most severely injured to the least. They had started with missing limbs, worked their way to impalements, then bullet wounds, broken bones... and they were still going.

Rose had watched as the Doctor had reset bones, extracted bullets, dealt with mangled limbs and treated everyone as best he could with the limited supplies they had. He'd been teaching her along the way too, showing her how to treat each wound with the utmost care and consideration. He repeated things to make sure she understood, querying her every now and then, and asking her what he should do next. She was learning, bit by bit, how to help these poor men. Despite the fact that the Doctor had admitted to her that there were a few they may not survive until morning.

It wasn't just physical injuries, they had psychological trauma to deal with too. Several of the men appeared to be almost completely catatonic with fear. Now Rose had had a glimpse of what they were going through, she found it easier to get inside their heads and help them come to terms with what they'd seen.

However, the broken relationships between comrades that the Doctor had pointed out to her was painfully apparent. None of them seemed to care about each other - none of them had friends they asked after. All of them lived in constant fear of being trialled for cowardice just by lying there, even when they were so badly injured they could barely breath they still seemed to be considering it as cowardice. It was clearly every man for himself under a system glued together by pure fear.

52nd century, and war seemed to have gone completely backwards.

She and the Doctor kept going.

* * *

Number 59, the Doctor noted in his head as he and Rose reached the last soldier in line - the least injured soldier in the room despite the fact he'd received a very deep and bloody wound to his chest.

"Hello," the Doctor announced to the soldier as Rose helped the Time Lord down to sit beside the man, then took her place opposite. "What's your name?" the Doctor asked gently.

"S-Sol," the man replied.

"Nice to meet you, Sol, I'm the Doctor and this is Rose," the Doctor told him, pointing at each of them in turn. "We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy."

"Thanks," Sol breathed, blinking rapidly.

"So what do we do?" the Doctor shot at Rose, who was frowning.

"Flush the wound, checking for any debris in it?" she supposed.

He grinned and nodded encouragingly. "Then what?"

"Suture it with an interrupted stitch and cover it."

He nodded again. "Brilliant. Can you clean up the wound while I thread the needle?"

She nodded, dipping a cloth ripped from a bed-sheet into the little bucket they had filled with salt and water to make saline.

"What are you doing?" Sol asked, staring at the Doctor as he threaded the needle.

"This is a technique they used to use in the 21st century," the Doctor told him. "We haven't got any skin glue so we're a bit back to basics."

"Oh," Sol muttered.

"It works the same as skin glue except you'll look like a dress," the Doctor told him. "But don't worry, I've made a few dresses, my stitching is beautiful."

Sol managed a little smile. The Doctor grinned back as him as Rose pulled back, showing her work.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Perfect," the Doctor responded after a quick check, then looked at Sol. "This'll hurt a little bit," the Time Lord advised him. "We've got limited painkillers."

Sol just nodded. "Do what you need to do."

The Doctor leaned forward, and carefully began to suture the wound. With every action he explained to Rose what he was doing, and Sol kept obediently still. When the Doctor was finished, Rose covered the wound carefully and finally drew back.

"Okay?" the Doctor asked her.

She nodded. "We're savin' lives," she said, smiling.

He smiled in return. "We should get some sleep." He looked back to Sol. "Don't touch it, it might be a bit itchy but try to ignore it. Also you're my alert. If you see someone about to die you yell as loud as you can, okay? I'll come running. Well, limping. But fast."

Sol just frowned. "You're the one that came back for us," he muttered, gazing at him with deep, penetrating bright blue eyes.

"Yes, I did," the Doctor said.

"Why did you do that?" Sol asked, genuinely sounding puzzled.

"Why, shouldn't I have?" the Doctor wondered.

"Nobody goes back for other people."

"They do where I come from."

"You care about all these people. Why?"

"To be honest, Sol, it's strange that you're asking me that."

"What?"

The Doctor glanced at Rose. "Where I come from, comrades don't abandon each other."

"Why d'you just ditch other people?" Rose asked seriously.

"It's every man for himself," Sol told them. "It's just how it is."

"It's time to change that," the Doctor informed him. "How's your history?"

"What?"

"World War One in the 20th century, how much do you know?"

Sol's eyebrows lowered, confused. "Not much," he confessed.

"Let me tell you a story. During WW1 there was a ship, HMS Partridge. It left Lerwick in a convoy, destined for Norway. But they were spotted by German destroyers just off the coast of Norway. A firefight began, but soon the Partridge was losing. The Lieutenant Commander ordered everyone to evacuate the ship, but two Lieutenants, Walters and Gray, stayed behind at their posts and manning the torpedoes, to allow everyone else enough time to escape. Grey had been shot in the thigh and was put onto a life vessel, but the vessel overturned and he was left in the water, alongside Walters. Although Grey was injured he was the stronger swimmer, so he helped Walters to another life vessel, but there was only enough room for one. Grey insisted Walters should take the place. Then Grey swam away."

"Then what?" Sol asked, wide-eyed.

"By a twist of fate, Grey was actually the one who survived. He was picked up by an enemy German vessel, the one that had just been shooting at him, and was taken as a prisoner of war. But he made a friend later, one of the German soldiers on the enemy ship that had picked him up. They corresponded until they died. Grey died in 1979. He didn't like to wear his medal or talk about what happened."

Sol stared at him. "Is that true?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor assured him. "One of the many stories of friendship in war. It's a remarkable aspect of humanity. And… you appear to have all lost that."

Sol fell silent.

"Think about it," the Doctor advised him.

Sol nodded, still silent.

The Doctor turned to Rose, holding up his arms, inviting her to help him up. She did so, supporting him.

"Let's get some sleep," he told her.

* * *

Rose was fast asleep next to him, her nose twitching like a bunny rabbit. The Doctor was lying back, one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, wondering how on Gallifrey he was going to escape on a broken leg.

He and Rose could sneak off during a mission, but that probably wouldn't work. They could distract the guards and sneak out of the base, but they wouldn't get far. They could fake their deaths, but that was a pretty stupid idea in itself.

He had no idea how to get out of this.

Clearly since the Universe hadn't imploded yet, this Jack was from the two years of memories he'd had erased. Just as well. Remembering this war? The Doctor wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially not Jack. The Jack that the Doctor knew, despite his philandering nature of course, was a good man with a strong heart. The Jack right here and now didn't even seem like a distant relation. Time Agents were notoriously ruthless and exceptionally dangerous, trained in torture, manipulation and lots of other lovely things that the Doctor didn't like very much. But he'd never imagined Jack had ever fallen victim to that.

However, here he was. Abandoning comrades and shooting before thinking.

Suddenly Rose made a noise next to him. He looked sidewards and saw her, brow furrowing, her fists clenching slightly as she began to twitch. He recognised it immediately. Nightmare.

He quickly pillowed her head with his hand and pulled his coat a little more over her.

"No, no, stop!" she garbled out. He brushed back her hair from her eyes, massaging her temple lightly for a moment as he closed his eyes, going inside her head briefly to see what she was seeing.

In her nightmare Rose was sitting in a deep, dark pit, and both her legs were missing and she was utterly paralysed, unable to move. Beside her was his own body, lying broken next to her.

A giant face loomed into vision at the opening to the pit. The person, whoever it was, began pouring fire down into the hole.

He heard Rose shriek outside the dream. He abruptly drew out of it and brushed back her hair again.

"Shush," he said gently in her ear. "It's okay. Just a nightmare."

Eventually she calmed down, turned over and fell still again. He adjusted his coat on her a second time, and took her hand, checking her dream state again. She wasn't dreaming anymore.

Being part of this gruesome war wasn't easy for her, and it was bringing back some bad memories for him. He wasn't even sleeping, not wanting to find out what his brain had in store for him when he closed his eyes. They had to go, preferably before they both went insane. She wasn't damaged too much yet, but he could see the Rose he knew slowly wilting away under all the limbs and blood.

She was strong, but not  _that_ strong.

"Sorry," he told her sleeping figure seriously in a whisper. "I'm sorry we're here."

Of course, she didn't reply. She kept sleeping, and he kept his hand in hers.

Suddenly the door flew up. The Doctor instinctively sat up and threw himself over Rose who had woken with a start, his actions purely by instinct before he realised who it was.

"Jack!? What are you…"

"You  _idiot!"_ Jack yelled, pointing a gun at him.

"What's goin' on?" Rose yelped from beneath the Time Lord.

"Your boyfriend led them right to us!" Jack shouted angrily, glaring at the Doctor.

"What!?" Rose cried, now gripping onto the Doctor's shoulders.

"Get up!" Jack finished and ran off.

"Doctor?" Rose pulled his head to face her. "What's he sayin'?"

"Exes are attacking the base, some must've followed me," the Doctor grated, trying to get up using the wall but failing miserably.

She grabbed him and hauled him to his feet, slinging his arm around her shoulder.

"Stay with me," he ordered her.

"Like I'm goin' anywhere!" she yelped, and helped him out of the medical office.

* * *

They were nearly thrown off their feet by a bomb hitting the base. The ceiling shifted slightly. The Doctor and Rose struggled to their lines of injured patients on the floor, where they finally stopped and the Doctor leaned on the wall, his brow furrowed with pain.

"Okay," he finally said, opening his eyes to look at them all. "Hands up who can walk!"

"If you've got no arms just nod enthusiastically," Jack inputted from the side, arriving next to Rose.

"Be quiet, that's not helpful," the Doctor almost snapped.

"You've really got a thing for pissing me off, haven't you?" Jack said incredulously, his eyes darkening.

The Doctor couldn't muster the willpower to care about him. "What's the plan, what are we doing?"

"Evacuating," Jack informed him. "Good time to have a gun."

He threw a gun to the Doctor faster than the Doctor could process what he was catching. He caught the gun as Jack ran off to the Exes trying to break through the ceiling, staring at it for a moment before deciding to throw it in the bin. It hit the rim, trembled for a moment, and then dropped into the bottom.

The Doctor looked at Rose, Registering her expression and direction of her gaze. "You just realised, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she muttered, still gazing at the now open and unguarded entrance area.

He hopped towards her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "We could escape," he said quietly. "In the chaos. Just slip away. What d'you think? Your call."

Rose didn't say anything for a moment, taking a moment to look around at the piles of bodies of the people they had treated last night. "... We can't," she muttered. "... We can't leave them."

The Doctor nodded. "Are you sure?"

Rose bit her lip, looking up at him. "These people will die without us."

"Yeah."

"We've gotta stay."

"Okay."

She rubbed at her eyes before taking a deep breath as the gunfire continued around them. "What d'you want me to do?"

He smiled briefly, dropping his arm from her shoulder. "Help the wounded get to the evacuation point."

Rose nodded, and ran off to do just that. They were nearly sent off their feet again with another blast. Dust streamed down from the rapidly breaking ceiling onto the Doctor's head.

He didn't fancy trying his luck with that again.

He went to the closest soldier first, hopping across the grating to get to him. They'd treated him for fractured ribs and a fractured arm yesterday.

"Hey Chris, it's your lucky day," the Doctor told him. "We're getting a new view."

"Is that so?" Chris asked, struggling to get up.

"Oh yes. Brand new type of concrete for you to stare at."

"Gee I can't wait," Chris muttered with mock enthusiasm.

The Doctor grinned. "Right, you help me and I'll help you," he said, nodding to his leg. "Take it slow."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"None of the Lieutenant stuff. We're all equal," the Doctor told him as Chris put the Doctor's arm around his shoulder, wincing.

"Except the captain," Chris muttered.

"Yep…"

* * *

The entire place turned to dust just as the evacuation craft left. The Exes were still shooting at the craft but the pilot kept them safe, with exceptional piloting skills.

Soon they were clear, and flying straight. Everyone relaxed, at least until Jack came in from the cockpit where everyone immediately tensed again.

He walked straight up to the Doctor and Rose who were sitting on a bench.

"Ken, a word," he said, taking the Doctor's arm and pulling the Time Lord upright. He led him into the back room, closing the door behind them.

The Doctor got the distinct feeling that this wasn't going to be a commendation.

"You defied my orders in the operation," Jack said lowly, his eyes afire as he turned on the Time Lord. "You jeopardised the mission."

"Sorry…"

"You could've killed everyone."

"Just myself," the Doctor pointed out, somewhat redundantly.

"Shut up," Jack snapped.

"Sorry," the Doctor said again.

"Always have to have the last word don't you?" Jack grated.

"Not always."

Jack fumed and gripped his neck, pushing him against the wall. "How did you survive that?"

"B-bone headed, I suppose," the Doctor choked out.

Jack continued to gaze at him, unblinking. "Listen well and listen hard. The only reason you and your assistant are still alive is because we need medical and you do good work. Don't think I don't shoot my own side for insubordination. And you brought them all to us. But now things are changing. You never defy my orders again. I don't know how you got out of that ceiling collapse but I swear if you step out of line one more time you'd be wishing you did die. Clear?"

The Doctor didn't reply, just trying to take in breath.

 _"Clear!?"_ Jack yelled in his face, tightening his hold slightly.

"Yessir," the Doctor gasped out.

"Don't think I won't be watching your every move. One bit of suspicious behaviour and I'll shoot your girlfriend point blank in front of you before I shoot you. Now get back to work."

Jack finally let go of his neck, and left. The Doctor took in a few gasps of air as he massaged his neck, thoughts flying through his head. He then left, limping back to Rose.

"What happened?" she asked, holding his arm as her dropped down next to her, wincing badly at the pain in his leg.

"We should have left when we had the chance," he muttered to her.

"What?"

"He's onto us."

Rose stared at him, horrified. "How?"

"He knows something not right…"

"He'll kill us…" she realised.

"He isn't because we're useful. Don't defy his orders. Do what he says. Call him sir."

She bristled. "Oh god, this is real, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," he said seriously. "We need to leave. I'll figure it out, just play the game for a while. If he catches us were dead."

"Okay," she muttered, and they immediately quietened as Jack walked past, not even looking at them.

The Doctor felt her hand slip into his. He obliging squeezed it.

Neither of them let go for the rest of the journey.


	6. RED MEAT WHITE MEAT

“God, I’m almost glad you led them to that base.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but agree with her. The new base was a shiny new construct - the same layout as the old base but now there weren’t walls leaning inwards or dead bodies under debris. It was much newer, much shinier, and much better equipped.

They were standing in the hospital wing, the rows of beds already filled with their patients. Rose was staring, wide-eyed at all of the technology laid out before her - all of the 52nd century medical devices wrapped up in vacuum packaging, new, ready and waiting to be used.

“What are these things?” she asked, daring to pick up a long white metal tube and studying it as though she were about to buy it.

“That’s skin sealant,” he informed her. “The 52nd century alternative to stitches.”

“What about that?” she asked, pointing at the bone vac. “It looks like one of those Dyson handheld vacuums.”

He grinned at that. “It’s a vac,” he informed her, “which pulls debris to the surface of the skin.”

“Debris?”

“Bone shards, shrapnel, that sort of thing.”

“Oh. What’s that?” she pointed at another object.

“Tweezers,” he replied, unable to resist a grin. “Don’t you recognise them?”

“Oh… I thought they did somethin’ high tech,” she confessed, a bit embarrassed.

He grinned. “Come on, now everyone’s settled I need you to fix my leg.”

She stopped, stunned. “Wait, what?”

“I can’t do it on myself,” he pointed out.

“We can fix it?”

“We can with this technology.”

A smile spread across her face. He hadn’t seen that for what felt like forever.

* * *

The Doctor was lying on his side on a free bed. He’d had to take off his trousers, but she wasn’t even acknowledging that. She was staring, fixated, straight at the leg she had splinted only last night and realising with an overwhelming sick feeling that she was the one that actually had to fix this.

He couldn’t even see her, but he seemed to know what her expression was. “It’s easy, trust me,” he assured her.

“Okay…” she said slowly, staring at the instruments he’d laid out for her. The first one was a PortX, which was some sort of portable X-ray-esque device that looked like a Nintendo DS; a bone magnetiser, that was a gun-like device with a large bell-shaped attachment on the end; a liquid bandage, which was a sleek, silver gun-shaped device with a large chamber attached; the bonder was a long, thin, strong needle with purple liquid inside; and the last was the vac, which he had explained to her earlier.

He had described their function and how to use them carefully to her. That hadn’t made her any less nervous.

“Take the PortX and hold it over my leg, and press the green button on the side,” he began.

She did. To her completely surprise, the small screen hovered of its own power over the Doctor’s leg, displaying clearly the misaligned bone through the skin.

“How’s it doing that?” she wondered.

“Just 52nd century technology,” he answered, grinning. “What does the break look like?”

She held up her fists a little way apart. “Like this.”

“Okay, good,” he said, “it’s a simple fracture. Are there any shards or debris, or something that shouldn’t be where it should?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed.

“Take a picture and show me,” he told her. “Press the black button on the right side, then the green to make it stop hovering.”

She did exactly as he said. The little PortX took a picture and she handed it to him.

“No debris,” he concluded.

“What would I do if there was?”

“The bone vac. We might get to that later, though,” he added, gesturing to his head. “Now pick up the bone magnetiser and the bonder. The magnetiser, when you place it to my skin and pull the trigger, will attract the bone  in my leg,” he explained patiently. “You just have to guide the bone back to where it should be. Like that game in The Crystal Maze.”

“This is so weird,” she told him honestly. “Where do I hold the magnetiser?”

“Just above my heel, right over the bone you want to move but give yourself room to see what you’re doing on the PortX.”

She nodded, and slightly apprehensively, held the magnetiser to where he’d said. She pulled the trigger. There was a faint hiss and a green light shone out by her thumb.

“It’s locked on,” the Doctor told her.

“Do I move it now?”

“Yes.”

She began to pull the magnetiser down his leg, intending to straighten out the displaced bone before putting it back in place, watching the PortX display as she did so. It didn’t seem to be moving.

“It’s not moving,” she told him.

“Bit more force,” he advised her.

She jumped the magnetiser down a few inches. Immediately the Doctor cried out, his arms flailing; she drew back, alarmed.

“Not that forcefully!” he cried, wincing.

“Sorry!” she said quickly.

“It’s okay,” he breathed after a moment, his eyelids fluttering. “Try again, this time try not to guide the bone straight into my muscle.”

“Okay,” she muttered, and tried again. Once again the magnetiser hissed, gripping the bone. Ever so carefully she moved it, guiding the broken bone back to where it should be. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him squirming.

“I think it’s in,” she told him.

“Check the PortX,” he advised.

She did, and nodded. “It looks like it should.”

“Don’t move or turn off the magnetiser at all until I tell you. Now use the bonder, put it in my leg making sure you touch where the bone’s broken with the point of the needle.”

This bit seemed even worse somehow. She switched hands so she had the needle in her right hand, placed it where she thought was best. She plucked up the courage along with a deep breath, and slowly began to push it in. The Doctor winced, but didn’t stop her. The end of the needle was showing on the PortX so she used it, guiding the point to the break. She saw it make contact on the PortX as her needle hit something solid.

“Got it.”

“Inject until the break is covered in purple.”

She watched the PortX, fascinated as something purple pumped out of the end of the needle and seemed to cling itself around the break. Soon it was coated.

“Done.”

“Take the bonder out of my leg, and then take the liquid bandage; hold it to my knee. When you pull the trigger some white liquid will come out. You need to run it down my leg to about midway down my foot. Try and get it even as best you can.”

She swallowed nervously. “Okay…”

She did as he said. It wasn’t hugely even, but it was fairly even. As soon as she reached the bottom and let go of the trigger, the white, gel-like substance suddenly seemed to grow, running thinly and hugging his leg, creeping around until it met itself on the other side. Then, she realised, it was the texture of a cast - just a very thin one.

“Good. Keep doing that, again and again until the cast is thick.”

She did. Soon the cast was about two centimetres thick.

“Is that okay?” she asked, looking up at him.

He nodded. “Good, really good. Now you can take away the magnetiser. First let go of the trigger then pull away. In the other order I’ll scream.”

“Okay…”

She did it exactly how he’d said, until finally he was left there with his leg in a thick cast.

“Check the PortX,” he ordered her, “and make sure it’s still aligned.”

She check and nodded. “It is… wow.”

He grinned at her. “Rose Tyler, you just fixed a broken leg.”

“I know,” she said, matching his grin in return.

“Now my head,” he said. She obliging moved her seat up to his head, bringing the PortX with her.

“So I check your head with the PortX, right?” she asked.

“Yep,” he replied.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at,” she confessed after a pause, taking a picture and showing him.

“My skull’s fractured, just a crack. Just use the bonder to help it glue together,” he told her after he checked the picture.

She did as he said, and once again purple filled the screen. Then it was done.

“Got it.”

“Thanks, Doctor Tyler,” he told her, beaming. “If there was debris in there, you’d have to make an incision and use the vac to pull the shards up to your incision to get them out, avoiding anything vital.”

She nodded. “I get it. Then use the skin sealant.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m gettin’ good at this,” she said, grinning.

He laughed and turned over, sitting up. “Thanks,” he said sincerely.

“You’re welcome. How long until…?”

He grimaced. “About three weeks until I can start running again.”

“Three weeks,” she repeated, a little deflated.

“I know,” he agreed. “But it’ll fly by.”

“Okay,” she concluded, nodding and straightening up. “We’ve got people to look after anyway.”

“We do,” he said, pulling his trousers back on methodically before pushing himself upright and rubbing at his neck absently.

Rose noticed for the first time that he had some bruises. It didn’t take a huge leap of intelligence to know who’d caused that. “... Did Jack do that?”

He looked at her, and clearly realised she was staring at his neck. “Um, yes.”

“He actually choked you?”

He gazed at her momentarily. “Rose, I won’t let him do anything to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she confessed.

He gave her a weak smile. “I can take it. Not the first time I’ve been choked.”

“Guess not…” she muttered, and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get to work.”

* * *

For the first time, they had dinner in the mess.

When they entered the place was nearer on the volume spectrum to silence, despite the fact about fifty people were in it. The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance, before she helped him to a seat.

“Thanks,” he breathed, propping his leg up on the opposing chair.

“I’ll get you somethin’,” she said.

“Chicken!” he shouted as she left. She rolled her eyes, grinning as she went to the food counter and picked up two trays, waiting behind a large, well-muscled man.

He turned back, acknowledging her. She nodded in return. Then he stared at her. She gave him a brief smile, looked away, and then looked back. He was still staring at her.

“Got a problem, mate?” she asked.

He gruffed a negative and moved on, getting his food and walking across the room. He gave her one last look before he sat down.

Shrugging it off, she turned back to the serving robots, and abruptly realised she had no idea what to say.

“Got any chicken?” she asked seriously.

“NO CHICKEN,” the robot buzzed. “RED MEAT WHITE MEAT.”

“Oh,” she realised, looking at the array of food she could see in front of the robot. There was indeed red meat or white meat cut into cubes, neither with a hint of an animal being involved anywhere near them. “Right, we’ll have a go at the white meat.,” she decided.

“VEGETABLES NO VEGETABLES,” the robot buzzed as it dished her the white meat.

“Better have ‘em,” she supposed, despite the fact they looked almost anaemic. “Sure.”

“SAUCE NO SAUCE.”

“What kinda sauce is it?”

“BLACK SAUCE.”

“What’s in black sauce?”

“LIQUID.”

“Alright,” Rose conceded, deciding she wasn’t going to get very far with that. “Um, no sauce, thanks.”

“BITS OR NO BITS.”

“Bits? What are bits?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t if I were you,” a voice suddenly came from next to her. Rose turned in surprise to find a brunette man in a red jacket, quite good looking, standing there smiling at her. “They say it’s for texture but it’s a bit like… ever accidentally eaten grit?”

Rose smirked at that. “Thanks,” she told him, and turned back to the robot. “No bits, thanks.”

“PUDDING NO PUDDING.”

“What’s the pudding?”

“SQUISHY PUDDING.”

“I’d take it,” the man advised again. “All waste gets recycled back into food, so trust me, enjoy the taste of it now cos it’ll taste like shit later.”

She laughed this time. “Yeah, please,” she told the robot.

“ENJOY MEAL,” it buzzed, and then turned to the man. “RED MEAT WHITE MEAT.”

“What’s your name?” Rose asked the man.

“John,” he told her with a perfect smile. “What’s yours?”

“Rose,” she told him.

“Beautiful name,” he said, persisting with his smile. “See you around, Rose.”

“See ya,” she said and went back to the Doctor, putting a tray in front of him.

“What did you go for?” he asked, taking the fork she proffered.

“Umm... White meat, vegetables, no sauce, no bits, but got pudding,” she summed up, smiling at him.

“Good choice,” he praised, and then glanced back at the man she’d been talking to. “Who’s he?”

“Guy called John,” she answered, daring to take her first bite of the white meat. It didn’t taste great. “I’ve got no idea what I’m eatin’,” she confessed.

“I don’t think the chef does either,” the Doctor joked, chewing thoughtfully on his food.

“I thought in the 52nd century they’d have genetically modified stuff,” she said.

“Oh, they gave that up pretty quick,” he told her. “Too many mouths to feed and not enough scientists.”

“Figures,” she supposed, and caught the eye of the man who had stared at her in the queue, sitting behind the Doctor. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he quickly looked away. The Doctor caught that and made to turn, but she subtly and quickly grabbed his arm. “Don’t look,” she muttered.

“What?”

“There’s a guy who keeps starin’ at me.”

The Doctor frowned. “What does he look like?”

“Big and muscly.”

“Oh,” he murmured.

“Don’t worry, beaten off bigger guys than him ‘round the estate,” she assured him.

He paused, considering that for a moment. “Right, eat up,” he ordered and increased his eating speed, “lots to do before bed.”

* * *

The Doctor deliberately hurried her along in her meal, whilst simultaneously trying not appear as if he was. He hadn’t told her, but after her mistake in the tunnel last night his awareness of her safety had increased tenfold. However unlikely it seemed to be in this undoubtedly unsocial atmosphere, the man the Ex had attacked had a brother in the outfit. The Doctor had already checked up on this brother, and to his horror Rose had just described him.

He could be looking for revenge.

After the meal the Doctor took her straight to the medical office and locked the door. They revised some medical techniques - she was eager to help him in the infirmary even more. All the while his keen hearing was picking out any movements outside. But no one came near.

She went to sleep, and immediately the nightmares began again. All he could do was sit by her - soothing her - listening for anything at the door whilst trying desperately to figure a way to escape.


	7. Without the Doctor

The Doctor and Rose were back in the infirmary the next day.

Rose had gone to deal with Sol while the Doctor was busy changing Chris' bandages. The Time Lord kept an eye on his companion, wary of anyone coming in and out of the door.

"My Mum died and I couldn't keep up the house repayments," Chris was explaining as the Doctor worked. "Saw an ad for the regular Celestial Army and thought why not? I had nothing and no one left."

The Doctor nodded, glancing up at the door again when he thought he heard something. Nothing there. "So you're fairly new?" he directed at Chris.

Chris nodded. "About a month ago now. Just my luck to get captured on my first mission out."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah. So what do you think so far?"

"Dunno," Chris confessed. "No one talks much. This is the longest conversation I've had since I joined."

The Doctor smiled. "Glad to be a part of it."

"How long until I can fight again?"

"You're healing well," the Doctor told him, checking his arm with the PortX. "Shouldn't be long now. Are you desperate to fight again?"

Chris scoffed. "Of course, else I'll lose my wage."

The Doctor nodded slowly, setting Chris' arm gently back down again just as the door opened. The Doctor turned quickly, seeing Jack strolling in. Jack spotted him and walked over.

"Hey Ken, where's Barbie?"

"Over there, sir," he said promptly, pointing towards Sol.

"Thanks, Ken," he said, and without another word strolled over to meet Rose.

The Doctor paused in what he was doing, his hand hovering over Chris' arm.

"Alright?" Chris wondered.

"Lemme listen," the Doctor urged, glancing up at Jack moving to Rose. Chris obediently silenced, listening too.

"Barbie!" Jack greeted Rose. "You're in luck. We've got another mission. Pack up, we leave at thirteen hundred hours."

"Wait, what?" Rose asked quickly, standing up in a panic. "Me?"

The Doctor stood up immediately. Rose's eyes connected with his across the room, wide and panicked. Jack was already leaving, seemingly completely oblivious to their reaction.

The Doctor quickly hopped to meet him at the door. "Captain, permission to speak," the Time Lord said urgently.

Jack smiled at that, and nodded. "Granted."

"Privately?" the Doctor added, nodding around the room filled with intently listening people.

Jack rolled his eyes and beckoned the Time Lord through the main room and into his room, sealing the door behind them. "What?"

"Take me too, please, sir."

Jack snorted with laughter at this. "You? Really?" He pointed at the Doctor's leg in indication. "You're compromised, soldier. We need medical and you'll get nowhere with that leg."

"I'll keep up, I promise," the Doctor insisted, before hastily adding, "sir."

"No. I'm not hanging around for you. She did good work last time, she's capable and we need medical."

"Sir…" the Doctor murmured, swallowing nervously. "Last time she caused a soldier to be attacked by an Ex..."

"I'm well aware of that, but otherwise she did good work."

"No, you don't understand," the Doctor persisted urgently. "The man had a brother in this unit."

Jack's eyebrows lowered. "I know, Lieutenant."

"I think he might be trying to kill her."

"Well, obviously," Jack said, blasé, "but that's her problem, not mine."

"Please, sir." He hated sounding so desperate, but now was not time for his pride. "I'm asking you to  _please_ take me too, I'll keep up, I need to make sure she's okay."

"My god," Jack drawled, gazing at him with a smirk on his face. "You're such a husband."

"Sir, I don't  _care_ what you think of me,  _please_ take me."

 _"No,_ Lieutenant," Jack spat, clearly now irritated. "You won't be able to keep up. She comes. Now get out."

"Sir…"

"Get out!" Jack snapped, opening the door and practically shoving him out with enough force to knock him over. The door slammed shut behind him, and the Doctor found himself lying on the grating outside his door, groaning in pain as his leg expressed its discomfort at the rough treatment.

The soldiers laughed and jeered at him. For a moment he could do nothing but lie there, his eyes closed, trying to manage the pain.

"Shut up you ponces," someone suddenly shouted, and the soldiers immediately stopped laughing. The Doctor felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up to see John, the man Rose had been talking to yesterday. He was offering a hand up. The Doctor took it, struggling upright as Rose joined them.

"What happened?" she asked anxiously.

The Doctor indicated the listening surrounding soldiers with a glance. Both she and John took the hint and helped him to the medical office, the door shutting behind them.

"He won't let me with you," the Doctor said as they helped him sit on the bed.

Rose glanced at John warily. "But… I'm not properly trained."

"He doesn't care," the Doctor muttered. "I can't go because of my leg."

"But I can't," Rose moaned.

The Doctor reached up to her shoulder, gazing at her. "You did it before," he told her firmly. "You can do it again. You've got better equipment this time too and you know how to use it."

She looked at him, absolutely  _begging_ him not to put her through this. He couldn't bring himself to meet her eye.

"We'll work it out," was all he could say.

Her gaze fell to the floor. He could see she was on the verge of tears. He didn't see her cry often.

"'Scuse me," she said suddenly, and ran off into the bathroom. Seconds later the shower started up, probably to disguise the sound of her crying. He felt compelled to follow her in and talk to her, but he knew that would do no good. He couldn't exactly reassure her.

It wasn't fair to force her to do this.

John sat down beside him, slightly closer than was acceptable distance. "Y'know, that man had a brother," he suddenly said out of nowhere.

The Doctor looked up at him. "Pardon?" he asked, a little stunned.

"The man she got infected," John continued, "had a brother."

"You know?"

"Oh, I'm very thorough," John assured him. "I'd be pretty worried about that too."

The Doctor fell silent, staring at the floor.

"I'm on the same mission," John told him. "I'll keep an eye on her."

The Doctor looked back up. "Why would you do that?"

"Because call me cynical, but she's clearly not supposed to be here and she's not a soldier. And neither are you. Not anymore. Am I right? Who am I kidding? I'm always right."

The Doctor maintained his gaze. "She's in training."

"Of course," John replied, not sounding convinced. "Silly me."

The Doctor didn't bother answering that. "Look after her," he finally said, resigning to it.

John smiled. It didn't feel genuine to the Doctor.

"Catch you later," John said, and left to the door.

"John," the Doctor suddenly muttered. John turned back. "Look after her," the Time Lord stated again firmly. "Or I'll find you."

"I'll look forward to it, sexy," John said with a wink and a grin before he left, the door shutting behind him.

* * *

Rose had left ten minutes previously and the Doctor had been anxiously waiting in the medical office ever since, lying on the bed staring at the ceiling with his hands clutched together on his chest.

Seconds went by so very slowly.

Helplessness wasn't an emotion he was used to feeling, but right now as he lied there inside the dim, small medical office with his leg propped up on a pillow he couldn't help but realise how pathetic he was in this.

Rose was currently out there in amongst a patchwork quilt of limbs, heads and guts with a crowd of selfish soldiers - one of them possibly looking to kill her - and he could do nothing by lie here and wave her off. He'd definitely lost control of the situation a very long time ago.

_We should have left._

The thought stuck with such ferocity in his head. They could have just  _left._ But that would have meant abandoning the injured soldiers and undoubtedly leaving them to die under the draconian regime. Sol, Chris, all of them.

But that wasn't him, was it? That wasn't the Doctor.

No,  _he_ didn't need to leave, it was  _Rose_ that needed to leave, he quickly told himself. There was no doubt she'd suffer for what she'd been through here.

But... there was a reason he didn't want to go to sleep.

His conscience definitely wasn't up to this much taxation.

He groaned, covered his head with his hands and resisted the urge to sleep.

* * *

Rose was starting to get used to not having the Doctor around during particularly dire situations. He'd been unusually quiet when she'd left, hugging her for just a tad longer than they were used to. He'd once again made sure she knew what to do, and gave her the order that she should run at any sign of any danger. She knew he was finding this painful. She didn't suppose too many of his companions had been forced into savage warfare of this magnitude without him around. For once, the Doctor had lost his control, and that was terrifying not only to him but also to her.

They were halfway across the wasteland now. They were supposed to infiltrate the Ex base and dismantle a biological weapon that was about to launch, but the nature of the operation meant that for the most part it was disturbingly close to a suicide mission.

John had been with her most of the way, metaphorically holding her hand. She liked him. He was charismatic like future Jack, good looking and had a great smile. Not only that, but he was also strong and had a particularly large gun, which made her feel a bit better. He was also chatting casually, as though they were just strolling down a perfectly normal street.

"I've been in worse," he was telling her as they walked. "I once got pinned down by two Valkilax in this sleazy bar on Jaskar Minor, ever been?"

"No…?"

"Ah, you should. Cute little place,  _plenty_ of night life," he said, giving her a wink. She couldn't help but blush a little. "Anyway, there I was, at gunpoint, arms in the air, eyes closed and suddenly  _boom!_ Off goes this bomb. Still can't work out where it came from, but off I went, running with my pigtails flapping until I got out of the building and got in range of the proton accelerator and got out of there."

She laughed. "Really? With the armour?"

"Oh yeah," he replied, smiling that charming smile. "Mind you, I did have to hop the last twenty metres."

She laughed again. "Thanks," she said.

"For what?" he wondered.

"Makin' me laugh."

"The Doctor not doing that for you? What is it with you and him?"

Rose sighed, readjusting her backpack. "He… It's complicated."

"'Love him' sort of complicated?" he wondered.

Rose felt her ears burn a little. "No, don't be stupid," she said, flicking back her hair.

John's smile widened. "He's not a local, is he?"

"What?" she asked, stunned.

"Not your regular human," he emphasised.

"Err… No, he's human," she said, flicking her hair again.

"That's adorable."

"What?"

"When you lie you flick your hair."

Rose stared at him, stopping dead in her tracks. "I'm not lyin'."

"Oh, come on, don't treat me like I'm stupid," he insisted. "So what if he's not human? It's not illegal not to be human. Some of the celestial army's best fighters aren't human. Having eyes in the back of your head does help, though."

Rose could feel her ears burning. She didn't know what to say to that.

"So has  _he_ got eyes in the back of his head?" John wondered.

Rose sighed. She knew when she was defeated. "No, he hasn't."

"So what species is he?"

"He's… Gallifreyan," she ended up saying. She supposed that was going to garner a bit less attention, and it wasn't exactly lying.

"Hmm," John mused. "So how do a 21st century human woman and an alien from Gallifrey meet?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you in the vintage clothes and bleached hair."

"I just like the style," she said defensively, being careful not to flick her hair this time.

"Oh, sure," John concluded, not sounding convinced. "Oh, we've lost the crowd," he suddenly added, looking up.

Rose followed his gaze, and immediately froze. "Oh my god, we fell behind!" she realised, seeing the group ahead of them as specks in the distance.

"Relax," he crooned. "Less likely to get shot at now. Fewer targets."

She swallowed nervously, adjusting her backpack again. "C'mon, the quicker we do this the quicker we get back."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a mock salute, and they resumed walking again at double pace. The others were going into the tunnel now, so Rose increased her pace even more until she reached the opening, leaving John in the dust, checking her watch as she did.

Suddenly the man who'd been staring at her in the café jumped out, holding a gun straight at her head.

"You killed Tommy!" he spat, his expression full of hatred and anger.

Rose gasped, backing away with her hands in the air, desperately looking for help, but she'd left John behind and the others had moved on… "I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"You fucking bitch!" he spat, levelled his gun…

"Stop! Please!" she begged.

But there was no begging for her life here, she could tell. His eyes were narrow, his expression hard, his teeth gritted with his brow creased in deep, angry lines.

He was going to shoot her. There was no doubt about that.

"No," she squeaked ever so slightly, slamming her eyes closed. Immediately her mum's face flooded her head, kind and smiling, looking down at her from above. Her face was so big it flooded her entire head. Then givijng her mum a Mother's Day card she's done for her at school. Her mum telling her how her Dad had died. Then she was in school, getting told off for carving  **I love Leo** on the desk with the point of her compass. Then winning bronze at the gymnastics contest. Then her first kiss. It had been Trevor from the estate. Good-looking boy. He'd gone to Oxford in the end.

Then there was Jimmy and losing her virginity. Dropping out of school. Then he'd been arrested and she'd gone back to her mum, crying her eyes out. Then she was on the dole, before finally getting the job at Henriks and getting together with Mickey.

Then there was the Doctor, his old face filling her hand as he stretched out his hand to her, his blue eyes bright and wide.  _Run!_ He'd said. Then they were running, to the end of the world, back to Dickens, the Slitheen, protecting the Dalek, meeting Jack and everything in-between flashing through so fast she couldn't process them all...

Then his new face with the big brown eyes and huge brown hair she always had an overwhelming urge to run her fingers through. Accusing him of being a Slitheen. Christmas, Cassandra, the Werewolf, Sarah Jane, the Cybermen, ancient Rome… Everything they'd done, so fast and blazingly lit, blinding but so beautiful and brilliant all at the same time…

Then he was in fully in her head, holding her so tightly. She loved his hugs.

Her entire life, flashing before her eyes.

It felt like it should have been a bit longer.

_Bang!_

For a moment Rose stood there frozen, thinking she was already dead and her body just hadn't realised it yet. It took quite a few, long seconds until she dared to open her eyes, and found the man lying in front of her staring blankly up at the stars, a bullet hole right through the centre of his forehead.

"All right?" a cheery voice asked from behind her, and she turned, stunned to find John standing there, his gun smoking slightly.

"Did you…?"

"Threatening a superior officer," John explained casually, shrugging. "Shall we catch up?"

Rose could only stare at the supine body of the private as John strolled off, realising with a sick feeling that the sight of the dead and now bloody man wasn't even disturbing her anymore.

She finally checked her watch again to properly take in the time. The entire thing had only taken six seconds.

She swallowed, gathered her wits, and followed John.


	8. Jealous Incorporated

**_N…_ **

**_NO…_ **

**_NO M…_ **

**_NO MO…_ **

**_NO MOR…_ **

**_NO MORE._ **

_The man who used to call himself the Doctor blasted the letters into the wall with such ferocity and fervour he envisioned blasting a Dalek apart with each pull of his trigger. The words he'd carved seemed to be convulsing in front of his eyes - screaming. The screams of the children he was about to murder._

_The moment he thought about them, their faces flooded his head. The children he'd seen in the streets playing together, all staring at him, begging not to die…_

_"You killed them," his own voice told him. "Your murdered those people. All those people…"_

_"I…"_

_"All those children are dead because of you."_

_"There…"_

_"Including your…"_

_"Stop!" the Doctor suddenly yelled, throwing out his hand only to find it was dripping with dark, fierce blood. He watched, mesmerised, as a single drop formed at the end of his fingertip, bulging and contorting before it fell, as if in slow-motion, to the ground. As it smashed into the rock it exploded like the bombs he'd been using to decimate cities, shards of concrete exploding out as the drop billowed into a blood red mushroom before finally resting on the ground. Then it began to run in rivets despite the flat surface, billowing out and seeping up over his converse until he was standing three-inches deep in a puddle of blood._

_He looked up and saw a little Gallifreyan girl standing there, her skin pale, her eyes hollow and a vacant, terrifying expression._

_"You killed me," she whispered between bloody lips._

_"I know," he croaked._

_"You murdered me."_

_"I know… Please forgive me," he croaked._

_"Nobody will ever forgive you!" she suddenly screamed, so loudly his eardrums almost burst. "Murderer!"_

* * *

The Doctor snapped awake with a strangled yell. For a moment he panicked, not knowing where he was until he registered the now familiar medical office.

He was lying awkwardly, tangled in the bedsheets with sweat lining his forehead. He felt compelled to check his hands, but they were perfectly clean and dry, as they would be.

For a moment he just lay there, breathing steadily with his eyes tightly closed. He forced the air in and out of his lungs, commanding himself to calm down as he could feel his hearts doing a double Charleston inside his ribs. He hadn't dreamt that vividly for a very long time, and it was terrifying.

How had he fallen asleep?

He wasn't doing that again.

He forced himself up, rubbing fiercely at his temples. There was no sign of Rose. He was trying not to panic.

He got up, hopping to the chair and dropping into it. He then got up again, and moved back to sit on the bed restlessly. He needed to occupy himself; stop thinking about the dream. Trouble was, there was nothing to do...

_"You murdered me."_

The voice circled continuously around his head. The image of the little Gallifreyan girl caked in blood wouldn't get out. He impulsively hit his head with his fist in a futile attempt to force her out but she remained resolutely inside, gazing at him in his mind's eye with those cold, dead eyes...

"I'm sorry," the Doctor breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry…"

No, he quickly told himself. This was ridiculous. She was an image conjured up by his mind, nothing more.

Before he could drive himself mad the door suddenly opened Rose came bounding in, engulfing him in a hug before he could process it.

"All right?" he asked quickly, holding her a little tighter than usual. He subtly checked her up and down but she was unscathed.

"This guy attacked me," she told him. "But John shot him."

"He's dead?"

"Yeah."

The Doctor nodded slowly, not letting go of her as she wasn't letting go of him. "And you're okay?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, finally pulling back to look at him fully. "Are you okay?"

He flashed a perfect grin. "I'm always okay," he assured her.

"Then why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

"Leg hurts," he lied.

She quickly pulled off her rucksack and pulled out a painkiller, administering it in a highly swift and professional way. "Better?" she asked.

He beamed. "Not in training anymore, are you?"

"Don't tell Jack that," she replied, wincing.

He laughed. She laughed. But there was something innately polite about it, made even more awkward by the lengthy pause that followed.

"... But you're really okay?" the Doctor ventured.

She paused, all the laughter and smiles gone. "... He shot him right through the head... I looked. There was a hole… He was just staring up…"

He drew her into a hug again. "It's okay," he assured her, but she resisted, pulling away and covering her face. She made some quiet comments that she needed the toilet, but he didn't let go. "It's okay," he said again. "Cry into me. Don't hide."

She sniffed, and eventually gave in, burying her head in his chest. Then he held her as she cried, a combination of shock, fear and utter despair all rolled into one currently spilling all over his jacket. But he welcomed it. She needed this. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. While they were here, she just needed to know that she wasn't alone.

When she had finished she pulled back, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve and consequently getting her mascara everywhere. She forced a smile at him, and he grinned in return.

"Can't believe I nearly died," she confessed, still holding onto his arms tightly. "I mean… I know we've nearly died loads of times before but this time… you weren't with me. His gun was in my face, my life flashed in front of me… Like seriously, I actually did that."

"I know."

"Please heal quicker," she begged, indicating his leg.

"I'll try," he replied.

"Cos I don't think I can stand this place much longer."

"I know," he said again. "Me neither. I'm sorry."

"I dunno what I would've done if John wasn't there," she muttered, putting her head to his chest again.

He stayed silent, just holding her. Several silent seconds passed before he took a breath, and spoke once more. "Are you hungry?"

"Starvin'," she confessed.

He got up onto his one good leg, offering a hand up. "Let's eat out."

* * *

They were back in the mess. Rose had retrieved them the red meat this time, and now they were sat in the silence, surrounded by tens of other soldiers all eating in silence.

"This is so wrong," Rose moaned.

The Doctor nodded slowly, looking around. He spotted John near the door and immediately tried to look away, but John had already caught his eye. John smiled and moved to them immediately, leaning over.

"Quiet in here, isn't it?" he said loudly.

The Doctor watched closely as Rose giggled. She was gazing up at John, her eyes shining. "Yeah, it is."

"Why's everyone so miserable?" he jested, bowed courteously to Rose. "You okay, Rose?"

She nodded, her face suddenly turning very solemn. "Yeah. Thanks."

"You're very welcome," he said, and looked at the Doctor. The Time Lord didn't need anymore prompting than that.

"Thanks," he muttered, and turned his attention back to his food.

John slapped him on the arm. "Come on, give us a smile. I know this place is miserable but that doesn't mean you have to join in."

The Doctor quickly gave him a grin - completely false of course, but anything to make him go away.

"What a beautiful smile!" John said, beaming and glancing at Rose, who laughed. "I'd better be off, enjoy your dinner. If you can call it that, it's a bit of a stretch."

He walked off, Rose giggling again, she looked at the Doctor.

"Okay, what is it?" she asked lowly so other couldn't eavesdrop.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Every time you see him you get all defensive," Rose said.

"It's just…" he paused, sighing. "Be careful."

"What?"

"Be careful around him."

"What? Why?" she asked.

"There's something about him."

"You think he's dodgy?"

"Maybe."

She frowned. "Doctor, he saved my life," she reiterated.

"I know, but there's something not right about him. Just don't trust him too much."

"But he saved my life!" Rose insisted, exasperated. She was clearly becoming a bit annoyed.

"I know," he said hastily, hands in the air. "But-"

"Hold on," she said, her eyes narrowed. "He didn't have to save me but he did. I owe him my life.  _You_ owe him my life."

"I know but look, I don't think he's what he seems."

Rose gazed at him for a long while in silence before her eyes suddenly widened and her jaw dropped. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"You're jealous."

"What!?"

"You're actually jealous of him."

"Don't be ridiculous," the Doctor replied immediately, his hearts suddenly doing a Charleston.

"You are," she said. "You've gone red."

"I'm not jealous!" he insisted. Their quiet conversation had now turned into a full-blown argument as he could see all the soldiers staring at them.

"He saved my life and it's normally you who does that, so now you're jealous it wasn't you!" she realised.

"Rose!" he cried, then quickly dropped his voice as he saw the other soldiers out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not jealous. I'm happy he was there to save you. But just… don't trust him."

"Why not?" she wanted to know. "Where's your proof?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but quickly realised he had nothing to say to that.

She smirked at his silence. "Exactly, you don't have any," she surmised.

"Please, Rose…"

"I'm not listenin' to this," she snapped, getting up. "Come back to me when you're not a teenager."

She stormed off out of the door, leaving the Doctor sitting there with everyone staring at him.

He ignored the staring soldiers, got up, and limped out of the door straight back to the medical office. She wasn't there.

He dropped onto the bed, head in his hands. If his leg wasn't broken he would have kicked himself. Of  _course_ Rose would defend John; the man had just saved her life. What a stupid time to bring that up.

Him? Jealous? Well, maybe a little. Just a tad. But that wasn't the reason not to trust John. John had saved Rose's life and that was all that mattered. But there was something about him; some sort of dark, black streak running straight through the apparently charismatic man. The Doctor was sure of it. Well, half sure. Sort of sure.

Okay. So he wasn't sure at all.

And now Rose was gone. Probably straight to John.

He groaned, covered his head and started planning what he was going to say when he saw Rose again.

* * *

Five hours later, and the Doctor was doing his medical rounds in the ward. He hadn't seen Rose at all. He'd considered going to find her, but clearly she was now safe in here with the brother dead and she probably didn't want to talk to him anyway.

He'd let her roam.

When someone entered he looked up, but to his surprise saw John standing there, smiling at him. The Doctor got up and half-hopped, half-limped to John.

"Can I have a word?" John wondered.

 _Be nice_ , the Doctor decided.

"Of course," the Time Lord replied with a beaming smile. John nodded and led him into the medical office, shutting the door behind him.

"Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot," John said.

"Probably," the Doctor muttered.

"She told me everything," John said.

The Doctor frowned. "Everything?"

"About you two and how you got here."

The Doctor gazed at him for a long moment. "I don't believe you."

"So there  _is_  something you're not saying," John concluded, beaming.

"Where's Rose?"

"Sleeping off the sex."

The Doctor's eyebrows lowered as his blood pressure immediately rose. "I don't believe you," he repeated.

"All right," John conceded, shrugging. "She's in the mess, finishing off dinner."

"Thank you," the Doctor said, and left John in the medical office.

* * *

He went straight to the mess and saw her, sitting at a table surrounded by soldiers all trying to chat her up. She was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

He swept in immediately. The moment the soldiers caught sight of him they all huffed a sigh and got up, leaving Rose alone.

"You okay?" he asked quickly, sitting down.

She just nodded.

"Rose, I'm sorry."

"Are you?" she asked vaguely.

"You're right, I was jealous, I'm sorry. I was immature and petulant," he said. He was lying of course, but he'd have to say exactly what she wanted to hear in order to get her back by his side. She was straying a little too far for his liking.

It seemed to work, as she suddenly grinned. "So you  _were_ jealous."

"Completely," he insisted. "Like a Jeremy Kyle guest."

She laughed at that. "I'm sorry for stormin' off."

"You had every right. I just had a chat with John," he continued. "We've decided to start fresh."

She nodded.

"... Were you with him this afternoon?" the Doctor suddenly asked.

She nodded for the third time.

"Okay," he muttered, trying not to think about what John had inferred. "I'm sorry. Again."

She smiled and put her fork down, reaching forward to take his hands, gazing into his eyes. "It's okay," she said. "I just love that you admitted to being jealous."

"That was me. Mr Jealous of Jealous Incorporated," the Doctor joked, grinning before looking down at her plate. "You finished?"

"Yeah," she said, getting up. She moved around to help him up, the both of them going back to the medical office.

* * *

"I've been thinkin'," Rose was saying through the door of the bathroom where she was getting changed for bed.

"Don't strain yourself," he joked, taking a sip of water and lying back on the bed. "What?"

She entered the room, rolling her eyes at him. "Thanks. Yeah, I thought we could do somethin' to help morale."

"Hmm?"

"Like some sort of communal thing."

"Like what?"

"Like Bingo or somethin'."

"Bingo?" he repeated, smirking slightly and pulling back the covers for her.

She playfully hit him on the arm as she sat on the bed beside him, taking off her earrings. "You know what I mean. Somethin' like that so everyone can take part."

The Doctor mused on that for a moment. "How about a Christmas quiz?"

"Christmas?" Rose repeated, confused. "When's Christmas?"

"In a week," the Doctor replied.

"Oh," she realised, lying down next to him. "Yeah, we could do that then."

He looked at her, grinning. "Okay," he said. "You're on."

"You do the questions and I'll do the promo, yeah?" she said, snuggling under the duvet and hugging his arm as she usually did for a replacement teddy bear. "I've got a feelin' they'd pay more attention to me than you."

"Probably," the Doctor mused, readjusting to face her, his head on the pillow. "And look, I really am sorry about today."

"I know," she said. "It's okay. Besides, I ain't stormin' off again. I get a bit too much attention on my own. Don't leave me alone, okay?"

"Never," he replied.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She smiled at him, almost hidden beneath all her hair. "Good night," she said.

"Good night," he replied, and pretended to close his eyes. He waited about ten minutes before her even, heavy breathing began and he opened his eyes again, just gazing at her face.

Had she slept with John?

He subtly got out his sonic and gave her a quick buzz. There was no indication of any fertilisation, so at least if she had she wasn't pregnant as a result.

She was only human. John was good looking and had saved her life. Was she that close to him?

The most awkward realisation was that it was really none of his business either way. He sighed, put his sonic back and gazed at her for a moment longer.

Suddenly he jerked awake, abruptly realising he'd briefly fallen asleep. No. He wasn't sleeping. He frantically blinked repeatedly, but tiredness was overtaking him. He tried to sit up but it was as though his body was forcing him to fall asleep. He struggled to sit up again, but he couldn't, his entire body suddenly almost dead. All he could see was the glass of water he'd drank from sitting on the table. In the low light he could see the rim shining unusually brightly…

Who'd been in here?

John, he realised. It had to be John. He must have coated the rim of the glass in something when he'd left him…

"Rose," he tried to say, but he couldn't even get the word out. He now couldn't even move. "Ro…"

He could do nothing but breathe as he fell unconscious.


	9. Comatose

Rose woke up to the sound of pure, raw screaming.

She shrieked in alarm and instinctively clung onto the Doctor's arm for protection, but after half a second she realised that the screaming was in fact coming from him. She practically jumped out of bed, still holding onto his arm, staring at him in alarm.

"Doctor!" she cried, but he clearly couldn't hear her. His eyes were fused shut and face was twisted into such a fierce emotion Rose could barely stand to look at him. He was sweating, pale, and choking on his own breath in-between his screams of what sounded like pure, raw agony.

She dived to kneel on the bed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Doctor, wake up!" she cried. She shook him as hard as she dared, slapped his face and in the end resorted to screaming down his ear, but still he wouldn't stop.

She looked around for something to help, and saw the glass of water on the table. She took it and poured it over his face, hoping it might wake him up. It didn't.

She grabbed him tightly in a firm hug, pressing his head into her shoulder and trying desperately to stop him shaking.

Was this a nightmare? How wasn't he awake yet?

The door suddenly opened and there was Jack, fully dressed and gun in hand.

"Is someone killing him!?" Jack shouted over the screams.

"I don't know what's goin' on!" Rose yelled, still holding the Time Lord tightly. His screams eventually petered out, until he was just sobbing relentlessly in her arms. Rose checked to see if he was awake, but he wasn't. His eyes were still clamped shut with tears creeping out of the sides and sliding down his cheeks, dripping off of his unshaven jaw.

"It's okay," she said, rubbing his back. "It's okay."

"What the hell's wrong with him?"

"I think it's a nightmare," Rose said quickly, still soothing him, "sir," she hastily added.

"Lieutenant!" Jack shouted, moving and grabbing the Doctor from Rose. He pulled him away from her to examine him, but the Doctor convulsed badly and flew out of Jack's grip, slipped off of the bed and hit the metal floor with a clang. Rose quickly dived to him, checking he hadn't been hurt in the fall.

"Wow," Jack muttered.

"Is he ill?" she asked. She didn't even think he'd know the answer, but she was desperate for some sort of explanation.

"Looks like," Jack said, finally putting his gun away. "Get him rested and do your medical thing."

"My…" Rose began, but he was already out the door. "... Medical thing," she finished flatly, looking down at the Doctor's limp, comatose body. "Oh god," she muttered. "Come on. You'll wake up in a minute."

She lifted him carefully back onto the bed, pulling the covers over him and readjusting the pillows. She held him again, rubbing his back.

She sat there for twenty minutes holding him. He didn't wake up.

* * *

She had to go and get breakfast on her own, but she went straight back to the room. After she'd eaten she went to the ward to see if she could find any drugs to help him. She hunted through the medicine bottles one by one, reading the notes on the side as she did so. She finally came across one that appeared to be for convulsions, but as soon as she took it back to him she realised that because of his alien system and allergy to aspirin she could end up making it worse. So she got rid of the bottle and sat next to him again, staring at him. He was becoming increasingly pale and sweaty. He was definitely becoming sicker, and very, very fast. He also hadn't moved, at least until suddenly he spasmed again and launched straight back into screaming. She grabbed him again, holding him tightly for several long minutes until he finally stopped screaming and fell back to an utterly comatose state.

She eased him back down again, readjusting the covers.

"Come on," she said softly to him. "You're okay. It's okay."

* * *

As the hours passed by, Rose's resilience was fading. She had been adamant that he would wake up, but he only seemed to be getting worse. She couldn't believe how fast he was deteriorating. It had only been twelve hours since he'd woken her up screaming but already his hearts were slowing and his lips beginning to tinge blue from lack of oxygen. But still every half an hour or so he was still having some sort of nightmare fit.

She had no idea what to do. He wasn't responding at all. She felt increasingly helpless as the hours ticked by and he became worse and worse.

Was he sick? What could have struck him down so quickly?

When John arrived in the evening, she was almost on the verge of tears and biting her nails. The moment he saw her he hugged her, holding her carefully.

"Any improvement?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothin'... he's just gettin' worse."

"Have you tried feeding him?"

She nodded, resisting the urge to cry. "He won't swallow, he just chokes…"

John nodded solemnly.

She looked at him desperately. "Have you ever seen anythin' like this?"

"No," he replied lowly.

Silence dawned on them as they both stared at the Doctor for a long moment. He was shaking and sweating on the bed.

"He promised," she suddenly said. "He promised he wouldn't leave me."

"Sometimes things happen and nobody can help it," John said seriously. "Have you done the medical rounds?"

She shook her head.

"Come on," he said, standing up and pulling her to her feet. "He wouldn't let you abandon all your patients for this."

"No," Rose said quickly, shrugging off his arm. "I won't leave him."

"I'll look after him," John insisted.

"If anythin' happens…"

"I'll shout in a forthright manly way," he assured her, ushering her out of the door. "Now go."

* * *

As soon as Rose was out of the door, John took a seat beside the Doctor's bed. He checked the Gallifreyan's hearts rate - both of them were bradycardic. His breathing was stilted. He also checked his eyes - they were dilated and fixed, staring up sightlessly at the ceiling.

He considered this, after a moment nodded and pulled off his bag he'd brought with him. He pulled out an anti-convulsant medication and a large book about Gallifreyan biology, laying them out on the bed.

He loaded the needle gun with the anti-convulsant and - after double checking the book on Gallifreyan biology - fired it into the Doctor's arm.

He then quickly packed everything away before finally relaxing, and waiting for Rose to get back.

* * *

The night went by so very slowly, but John stayed with Rose.

She'd managed to find an oxygen canister so had brought that back to the Doctor, hoping it would help his breathing. He seemed to have calmed down, or at least, stopped convulsing. He was still having his 'attacks', as she had decided to call them, but not nearly as physical as before.

In between the attacks he looked so serene and peaceful it was almost deceptive. A couple of times she'd been fooled, thinking that it meant he was getting better, but her hopes had been continuously proven to be unfounded.

John had tried to convince her to get some sleep but she could barely keep her eyes closed for all the small noises the Doctor was emitting, making her jerk awake to check him continuously. Of course, nothing ever happened. He had his attacks, and otherwise laid completely comatose.

She had a very long night.

* * *

After a bit of persuasion John had convinced her to go out to breakfast. He went with her.

Rose sat at the table, biting her nails again. They were nearly down to the bone. After a few minutes, John arrived carrying two trays of food, setting one down in front of her.

"Chin up," he said, offering a small smile.

"How?" she asked seriously, looking gloomily at her breakfast tray.

"He's stopped convulsing," John pointed out. "That's good."

Rose suddenly stood up, running a hand through her unkempt hair. "I can't do this, I need to be with him..."

"Sit down," John implored, holding up his hand in which was secreted a small red laser light. "Hooked to his vitals, remember? If there's a problem it'll start flashing."

After a moment she sighed and dropped back down again. "Sorry," she muttered, picking up her spoon. She then commenced staring at bowl of suspicious-looking cornflakes, moving them around with her spoon. She had very little intention of eating them. She wasn't hungry.

There was a brief silence.

"He's gonna die," Rose muttered, resigned.

"Come on," John said seriously. "He's got better, he's stopped convulsing. That's a good sign."

"I just hate feelin' so pointless," Rose muttered. "I don't know what's wrong with him."

"He's just picked something up," John assured her. "You said he's Gallifreyan, right? I heard they've got a hell of a sexy immune system."

Rose smiled a little. He caught it, and grinned.

"There you go," he said. "He'll be fine."

"I hope he wakes up before Christmas," Rose said, finally taking a spoonful of cereal.

"I hope he's promised you a present," John joked.

Rose laughed smally. "We were gonna do a Christmas quiz."

John laughed. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Morale.'

"Ah." John mused for a moment. "Well, why don't we do it?"

"What?"

"I'll do it with you," he said. "What was the plan?"

"I was gonna promote it and the Doctor was…" She paused momentarily before starting again, "... he was gonna do the questions."

"I'll do that," John said. "So what's the prize?"

Rose paused again, frowning as she thought. "Um, I dunno. What d'you reckon?"

"Dinner with you?" he suggested, winking. She giggled and waved a dismissive hand.

"Nah," she said. I'll find somethin'. You just worry about the questions."

"Will do."

* * *

The Doctor stayed comatose.

After managing to hook him up to some drips to keep him alive, Rose and John began to work on the quiz. As the days went by Rose progressively spent less time with the Time Lord and more time with John, designing promotional posters on loo rolls as he painstakingly arranged a host of general knowledge questions.

She steadily grew closer to him. John took her mind far away from the Doctor. He made her laugh from the belly with his dirty jokes and lewd comments that reminded her so much of Jack - her Jack, anyway.

She missed him. When she finally got out of here, she'd have such a story to tell him.

But the Jack she was with didn't seem to be bothering her that much anymore. There had been a couple of missions but he hadn't ordered her to participate. For the most part he was staying away from her - maybe avoiding her? She couldn't tell, not that she cared anyway. It was nice not to have his volatile nature anywhere near her for a while and she wasn't particularly compelled to question it.

Five days after the Doctor had fallen into the coma, it was Christmas Eve and she and John were in the cafe, hours after dinner doing the last tweaks to their quiz. Posters were all around the base now, Rose had made sure to cover all areas twice over. At 11:03pm on Christmas Eve most people had left, with just a few soldiers playing cards in the corner.

"And I said, 'seriously Princess, if you're gonna show me that surely I should see the whole package'..."

Rose laughed joyously. "Oh my god, how could you!?"

"Next thing I know, some guard's got his stunner out and I'm lying on the floor like, 'what did I say?'" John said, giving a theatrical shrug. "Then she kicks me right in the nuts and storms off, and I had to say it, 'I paid for an hour!'"

Rose nearly choked on her coffee she was laughing so hard. "You idiot!" she managed to get out. "You're such an idiot!"

He laughed uproariously. "Then of course I'm thrown out of the castle, no clothes and nothing to my name, I had to hitch a lift with these American galactic tourists…"

"Oh my god you didn't, you liar...!" Rose said between laughs. "You're such a liar!"

"So I'm sat there in their spaceship, hands covering myself, saying…"

"Are we there yet?" Rose completed. John burst into laughter and tapped his nose in true charade manner.

"Exactly!" he declared.

Rose could barely breathe for laughing so much. Her face was aching but she didn't care. "God, you're so like Jack it's unbelievable!"

"Yeah?" John asked between laughs.

"This one time, we were on this pleasure planet and me and the Doctor were in the reception, and suddenly he walks up to us completely naked apart from this towel on his head sayin', 'have you seen my towel?' and the Doctor looked at him and said, 'is that what you're calling it now?'"

John laughed uproariously. "When was that?"

There was a long pause as Rose suddenly froze, all laughter immediately disappearing from her expression.

John looked at her, still beaming. "What?" he asked.

"Nothin'," she said quickly. "Four months ago, before we got deployed here."

John's smile didn't lose its integrity. "Come on, Rose," he said, taking her hands. "We're just two soldiers sharing stories. Share a little. Come on."

She sighed heavily. "We're not soldiers."

"Yeah, now get to the un-obvious bit."

She sighed again. "We're time travellers. I'm from the 21st century and the Doctor's a Time Lord from Gallifrey. We didn't mean to land here. We left Jack - I mean, our Jack - on this planet called Plax."

"A different Jack to the Captain?"

"Same one," Rose told him. "Just from the future."

"I'm hoping he's nothing like our Jack," John mused. "Cos this one is a bit of a twat."

She laughed. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

He nodded, and let go of her hands. He paused only momentarily before getting up. "We should check the Doctor," he announced.

Rose nodded, before suddenly catching him arm. He turned back.

"Promise you won't tell?"

He nodded. "Promise," he confirmed with a deft nod. "You can trust me."

* * *

The Doctor's condition hadn't changed. They checked his vitals, all were the same, before they both sat beside his comatose body. Eventually Rose left to the bathroom.

After a minute of gazing at the Doctor, John took a casual glance around the room and almost immediately caught sight of the drinking glass on the table - a glass that had been there for five days.

He gazed at the glass, before suddenly leaping to his feet, his eyes shooting wide in alarm.

"Rose!" he called, grabbing the glass and jumping to his feet, hammering on the bathroom door. "I think this… I think I know why he's sick!"

After just a few seconds Rose opened the door in a panic and caught sight of the glass. "What!?"

"This glass! Did he use this glass?" John said, holding it up. She made to touch it, but he quickly pulled it away. "No, don't touch it. Did he use this?"

Rose stared. "I dunno… I guess… wait," she realised, flashing back to that night. "He did, he drank a bit!"

"Look at the rim," he said, pointing it out. "Do you see that?"

"Oh my god," she realised, jaw agape. "Is that…?"

"It's been coated," John concluded. "Coated in some kinda poison I bet…"

"What? Why? Who!?"

"I don't know," John muttered. "But if it's someone in here it had to be something from the ward… There's got to be an antidote somewhere!"

Rose was already making for the door, John only one step behind her still clutching onto the tainted glass.

* * *

With the machines it only took a matter of minutes to identify the poison. The machine told them the name of the antidote, and immediately Rose and John ravaged the entire medicine stock for the named drug. It took a while but eventually they found it and attached it to a needle gun. They swooped back into the medical office where the Doctor laid, supine.

Suddenly Rose stopped, still holding the needle gun.

"What?" John asked.

"Sorry, this is… God, he's finally gonna wake up," she croaked, looking at John.

John nodded, making a 'get on with it' gesture with his hand. "Do it, now."

She nodded, stepped forward, took a steely breath and administered the drug into the Doctor's arm. He seemed to flinch a little, but otherwise did nothing.

"How long does it take to work?" Rose asked quietly.

"I don't know," John confessed. "A few hours maybe?"

Rose dropped to sit in the chair, staring intently at the Doctor's face. "Come on," she begged him. "You've got the antidote, just get better now."

John rested his hand on her shoulder. "He's going to be fine. And hey, merry Christmas."

She looked up, confused.

"Midnight," he clarified, pointing at the clock.

She smiled, stood up, and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Thank you so much," she croaked, her eyes shining.

He bowed courteously. "My pleasure. I'm just glad he's going to be all right. I'd better leave you to it."

"No," Rose said quickly. "Please, stay."

He considered that for a few seconds, before finally nodding. "Okay," he said, and sat down to wait for the Doctor to wake up.


	10. Hallucinations

"Question twenty. In physics, who discovered the Fifteen Dash Ten Barric Fields?"

The groups of soldiers intensely whispered for a moment, before furiously scribbling down answers on their pieces of toilet paper.

"Question twenty-one," John continued. "In the 21st century, which political leader was involved in the Watergate scandal?"

More furious scribbling. John shot a look at Rose, who offered him a weak smile. She wasn't feeling it. The Doctor hadn't woken up yet, and she'd had to reluctantly leave him help run this quiz. She wanted to be there when he woke up, but at the same time she also knew she would just wind herself up if she stayed there.

"Question twenty-two. who was the President of the Red Velvets?"

She had been of the impression that he would have been awake in time for breakfast, but he hadn't. Not even lunch or dinner. At least his hearts seemed to have resumed normal beating. All the good signs were there.

"Question twenty-three. In the holovid series 'Jupiter Rising', who is the Grexnix married to?"

"Lord Drayvole," a voice suddenly said from the doorway, and Rose looked up to see the Doctor standing there, looking decidedly pale but very much awake. She laughed in joy, jumping to her feet and running as fast as she could to meet him in a hug, almost knocking him over.

"Hey, not been to a pub quiz before? You don't yell out the answers," John joked. "Everyone, we're breaking for a drink, we need you pissed for the next half!"

As the soldiers began to get up to get a fresh round of drinks in, John moved to the Doctor to extend a hand. "Good to see you awake, Doctor."

The Doctor seemed to pause for a moment, gazing at John. Then he took the hand and shook it. "Thanks," he said. "How long was I…?"

"Six days," Rose told him, still hugging him.

"Then it's Christmas," the Doctor realised, looking around. "You did the quiz."

Rose nodded. "John did the questions."

"Of course, I'll step aside for the almighty Time Lord," John said, holding out his list of questions to the Doctor for him to take.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly before he suddenly shone a weak smile and pushed the list away. "Oh no, it's all yours," he said. "I'll be a contestant."

"We're already halfway through," John pointed out.

"Doesn't matter," the Doctor dismissed.

John laughed and slipped the list inside his pocket. "See you in a minute," he said, and left to get a drink.

Rose pulled the Time Lord to sit down immediately, as she could see he was still shaky on his legs. "Are you okay?" she asked, resting a hand on his forehead. He felt a little hot.

"Yeah," he muttered, glancing at John as he left. "How does he know I'm a Time Lord?"

"I told him," Rose said, and immediately continued before he could reply, "relax, he's okay. He's really been helping me. He found out the poison and helped me get the antidote."

"Funny, that," the Doctor muttered so quietly Rose barely heard it.

"Hey, come on," she said seriously. "He saved your life. You were nearly dead."

"I left him in the room," the Doctor muttered. "I left him. He tainted the glass…"

"Our room was open all day while we were in the ward," Rose stressed. "He was the one that saved you. Why would he poison you and then save you? C'mon, you're confused and tired, we'll talk about this later. Go back to bed."

"I'm fine," he insisted, just as John returned with drinks for everyone.

"Didn't know what everyone liked, so I took an educated guess," he said, setting the drinks on the table. "Merry Christmas! How are you feeling?" he directed to the Doctor.

"Fine," the Doctor repeated, blinking hard again.

"I told him to go to bed, he's not havin' it," Rose said to John, grinning.

John considered this, and then considered the Doctor. "I'll take him to bed," he said, winking.

Rose giggled. The Doctor just blinked hard and pulled Rose close to him, hugging her. Rose obligingly held him. He clearly wasn't well and was doing his usual Doctor thing of utterly denying it. She didn't even care. So long as he was awake.

"Starting the quiz again, get your arses back in your seats!" John yelled, pulling out his list of questions once more.

* * *

'Team Terrance and Company' won the quiz, who had the now discharged Chris and Sol among their members. Rose presented them with their prize - a trophy made out of old bits of dismantled weapons she'd found in the storeroom, wrapped with bandages to fix it in shape. They laughed, others jeered, and even as Rose and the Doctor left they were attempting to drink out of it.

"Well, it worked," Rose observed as they left to go back to the medical room. For moment they both listened to the laughter of the soldiers, the atmosphere jovial.

The Doctor nodded as they reached the medical room. "Yeah."

They got inside, Rose shutting the door behind them. She noticed he was a lot stronger on his broken leg as he dropped to the bed, though he was still wincing.

"Need a painkiller?" she prompted.

"What?"

She indicated his leg. He realised what she meant, and shook his head.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

She decided to completely ignore him, retrieving and administering the painkiller anyway. "You're stronger on it," she observed.

"Yeah," was all he responded.

Concerned, she put away the painkiller and sat down next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"I'm not an idiot," she told him firmly. "Are you just tired?"

"No," he said quickly, and for a flicker of a moment she saw panic flash through his eyes. She could have imagined it she supposed, but she concluded she probably hadn't.

"Talk to me," she said, impulsively taking his hand.

He looked like he was about to cry. He blinked hard again, and quickly turned away. She reached forward to hug him. He was shaking slightly.

"Come on," she prompted, an edge of steel to her voice now as she pulled back again, lifting his head to to her. "I cried into you now you cry into me, yeah?"

"I'm fine," he insisted, but his voice was breaking.

"I'm gonna get mad at you in a minute," she said seriously.

He didn't reply to that either, just staring at her.

"Doctor, please," she almost begged. "You're freakin' me out now."

"I'm sorry," he croaked, blinking again.

She offered him a wan smile, resigning to it. "Just get some rest. You'll feel better in the mornin'."

She forced him to lay down, taking off his shirt and trousers. It was a wonder he'd managed to dress himself at all in his condition. All the while he was blinking hard, his eyes flickering around the room.

She then got changed herself, turned off the light and climbed in next to him. He hadn't moved an inch, as though petrified. After some readjustment she leaned over him. His eyes were wide and fixed, staring at the ceiling.

"Doctor," she whispered. He didn't react. "Doctor. What's wrong? Please tell me."

"The dark," he muttered.

"D'you want me to turn the light on?"

"... Yeah."

She flicked it on and then turned back to him. "You're havin' nightmares, aren't you?"

"... Yeah."

"Me too," she said. "But we've gotta sleep."

"I know."

"It's gonna be okay," Rose told him. "You're still sick so I'm lookin' after you. Once you're better we can get out of here, okay?"

"... Okay."

She made a decision, pulling him to turn him over to face her. His eyes immediately drifted to a point over her shoulder.

"What are you lookin' at?" she wondered, checking behind her but there was nothing there.

"Nothing," he said shortly. "Night."

After a brief pause Rose sighed. "Night."

* * *

As Rose laid down her head and closed her eyes, the Doctor desperately tried to fix his gaze on her face. But not matter how much he tried to focus his vision, his eyes couldn't help but creep up to a point just behind her where his mother was standing, covered in blood and crying.

He fused his eyes closed, hugging himself as he mouthed repeatedly for her to leave him alone. After a moment of silent begging he checked again, but there she still was, standing over Rose, staring at him unblinkingly as she sobbed relentlessly.

She was going to stand there all night, crying. He knew that already.

* * *

Rose woke up, yawning and stretching widely. That had been the first night for a while without any bad dreams.

She instinctively moved to hug the Doctor for security, but abruptly realised that there was no one there. She sat up and panicked at sight of the empty bed, at least until the door opened and in he came, holding a tray of food.

"Look lively! Breakfast doesn't eat itself," he said, setting the tray down on her legs and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Rose took in his smile and the slight blush of colour to his cheeks that hadn't been there the previous night. "You're feelin' better," she said, smiling back.

"Yeah, sorry. Never at my best when I come out of a coma," the Doctor replied, taking a piece of what appeared to resemble toast and eating it.

Then she realised something. "Did you just go out on your own?"

He got what she meant immediately. "C'mon, whoever's trying to kill me wouldn't be so stupid as to do it where massive crowds are."

"S'pose," she muttered. "Just be careful."

"I'm always careful," he insisted, making her giggle. "Ready to start planning our escape?"

She blinked, surprised. "Are you better?"

"Give it a couple more days, drug me up with painkillers and we can go. It'll give us enough time to plan anyway. Now eat your toast."

Rose grinned. "Already sounding like a good day today," she said, taking a piece for herself.

"Doesn't it just?" he teased.

She laughed. Suddenly it felt like a giant weight was being lifted off of her chest - a weight she hadn't even known was there. Escape. It was about time. She impulsively hugged him, but her heart sank as she realised he was shaking. "You're shaking…"

"I'm still recovering from the poison," the Doctor told her, pulling back.

"Okay. Y'know, I've been thinkin' about who did it… I can't think of anyone. Well, except Jack, but I think he needs you too much for medical stuff."

"What about John?" he suggested.

She was about to have a go at him, when she realised that maybe he had a bit of amnesia and really she should go easy. "He's the one that found out you were poisoned," she explained patiently. "We got the antidote together. He helped me look after you too."

"Okay," the Doctor said. That was all he said on it. "Eat up and we can do our rounds. Make sure the poisoner knows I'm still alive and now very annoyed."

Rose laughed again. "Yeah," she replied as he finished his half and got up.

"Rose," he suddenly said, looking thoughtful.

"Yeah?"

"Did I talk in my sleep in the coma?"

She frowned a little. "Sort of, well, not really... You were screamin' a lot. You kept havin' these attacks, well, that's what I called 'em. They were like fits where you screamed and convulsed. Why?"

He shrugged, nonchalant. "Curious," he said. "Oh, I forgot orange juice. Back in a tick."

Rose watched, slightly suspicious as he left.

* * *

Together the Doctor and Rose did the medical rounds. It didn't take too long, as more soldiers were being discharged. The worst of the injuries they'd treated in the aftermath of the base attack were now almost fully healed.

"Lieutenant!" someone suddenly said from the doorway and the Doctor and Rose turned to see a soldier standing there, snapping a salute. "The Captain is about to make an announcement and asks for all soldiers to be present in the canteen in two minutes."

The Doctor gave a mock salute back. "Thank you, Private."

The soldier turned on his heel and marched out of the door in prompt militaristic fashion.

"What does he want?" the Doctor mused.

"Dunno, but we'd better not be late," Rose said, getting up and offering her hand to him.

"You go, I'll catch up," he said, giving her a smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep, I'll just clean up here," he confirmed, gesturing to the table of medicines.

"Okay," she said, before leaving.

The Doctor watched her go, before getting up and hopping to the medicine cupboard, trying to ignore the crowd of dead Gallifreyan children standing by the door, their faces gouged out with burns.

After a few minutes of searching, he couldn't find an anti-hallucinogen. He groaned, his head dropping onto one of the struts of the metal shelves. After a moment he looked back at the doorway where the children were still stood, staring at him.

"Please stay in my head," he begged the children, but they just stood there, immobile and staring at him. He took a breath, straightened up, and walked through the crowd to the door. When he got there he looked back, but they were still staring at him, not moving.

They stayed there even as he left out of the door.

* * *

He reached the canteen just in time. Jack was standing on a table, waving his arms to signal everyone to be quiet. Rose pulled took the Time Lord's arm, pulling him to the side so they weren't obviously in Jack's vision.

"Shut up!" Jack yelled, and immediately the crowd fell silent. "From our friends at NeoCorp, we've got word of a surprise visit by one of the Majors tomorrow from HQ."

The crowd collectively jeered.

"He's bringing his entourage with red carpet and pink champagne, so everyone have a damn good wash tonight, go to bed early and wake up looking like you're enjoying your free holiday, all right?"

"Yessir!" the crowd collectively chanted, snapping salutes.

"Thanks for listening," he said, dropping down from the bench and leaving without another word.

The Doctor immediately stepped forward as the crowd began to disperse and tapped Chris on the shoulder.

"Wassup?" Chris asked, turning back. He grinned at the sight of the Doctor. "Aw, hey. Heard you were sick. How are you doing?"

"Good thanks," the Doctor replied, nodding and smiling. "Hey, d'you know which Major is coming?"

"Major Christian Slater," Chris informed him. "You know him? One of the biggest twats at NeoCorp."

The Doctor nodded. "Ah. Thanks."

Almost immediately he turned, took Rose's hand and limped out of the canteen.

She noted he seemed antsy. "Doctor?"

He pulled her to the medical room, shutting the door behind them. "We have to go, tonight."

Rose frowned, confused. "But you said..."

"Major Christian Slater," he said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper, "I told Jack was our commanding officer. I just picked a name, I didn't think he'd actually  _come_ here..."

"So?" she asked, confused.

"If he comes here… he's not going to recognise us."

Rose's jaw dropped. "Oh my God. We've gotta go."

"Exactly," he agreed. "Start packing painkillers and water. I'll see what plan I can come up with."

She nodded furiously. "On it."


	11. Escape

It was 6pm, and the Doctor and Rose were sat in the mess eating and talking quietly about menial things.

The Doctor had an escape plan. Albeit, not a great one, but it was still an escape plan and right now Rose would take what she could get. She wasn't oblivious, she knew what would happen when the General got here. He'd take one look at them and declare them as spies before they'd be arrested and dragged away, then possibly tortured for information before being shipped off to some sort of penal colony for hard labour. Then they'd never get home.

According to the Doctor, the guards on the main door worked in shifts, and the shift with the least amount of eyes was at 1am. The 1am guard was usually late, meaning the door was left unguarded for a few minutes. That was when they'd run, get out, find a jeep and drive back to the TARDIS.

They were just finishing up dessert, when suddenly Jack appeared in the mess doorway. Rose inadvertently caught his gaze. He looked incredibly annoyed. He suddenly focused on them, marched straight up to the Doctor and grabbed him without hesitation around the neck. The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise and alarm as Jack lifted him bodily up.

"Jack?!" Rose yelled in alarm, but Jack wasn't listening. He slammed the Doctor down onto the table with alarming force, his hand still tightly around the Time Lord's neck.

"I want answers!" Jack yelled, spittle flying into the Doctor's face. "Who the fuck are you?!"

"We're from the medical corp!" the Doctor gasped, struggling.

"I think we're a little bit beyond that now, honey," Jack said calmly, his eyes boring into the Doctor's.

"Captain..." the Time Lord gasped.

"I want the goddamn truth!"

The Doctor was beginning to turn a funny colour, struggling to gasp for air through Jack's hold on his neck. Rose didn't know what to do. Jack was terrifying, but the Doctor was choking...

"Fucking answer me!" Jack screamed, bringing out his gun and pointing it straight into the Doctor's face, finger poised on the trigger.

"I... can't..." the Doctor rasped, trying desperately to get Jack's hand off of his neck.

"You  _want_ me to shoot you through the head?!" Jack yelled, pressing the barrel of the gun right up against the Doctor's forehead.

Rose couldn't watch this anymore. She leaped forward and tried desperately to pull Jack's hand off of the Doctor's neck but it was completely unrelenting, his fingers like steel. Jack didn't move his eyes from the Doctor's as he turned the gun and pointed it at Rose instead. "Back off, sweetheart," he said coolly.

Rose sprang back instantly, eyes wide. She looked at the Doctor, listening to the sound of unsuccessful strained gasps for air. He was completely purple...

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Jack informed the Doctor, tightening his grip ever so slightly. There was a momentary silence, filled only with the Doctor still struggling to breathe. Seconds ticked by. It felt like hours to Rose, her eyes playing tennis between the Time Agent and the Time Lord...

The Doctor's eyes were beginning to close, all the fight in him having evaporated as he laid limply on the surface of the table. Jack was killing him...

" _Please_  let go of him," Rose begged.

Jack ignored her. " _Talk!_ " he yelled at the Doctor. But the Doctor couldn't have answered even if he wanted to. He was on his respiratory bypass now, as his chest as stopped moving but his eyes were wide open, staring at Jack as he struggled with renewed vigour to peel the Time Agent's hands off of his neck.

Every soldier was watching the confrontation. Rose could see them all - Chris, Sol - just standing there staring, clearly anxious to help but absolutely terrified of their own self-preservation at the same time. She couldn't blame them for doing nothing.

The Doctor's respiratory bypass ran out, his eyes closed, and he fell utterly limp. Jack finally let go, but the Time Lord didn't move. He was unconscious from asphyxiation Rose realised, and now Jack was turning to her instead for answers. Immediately her insides turned to ice. She started backing away but he moved forward as quickly and precisely as a striking cat, raising the gun at her head.

"Captain!" a voice suddenly cut through the crowd. John, Rose realised, strolling into the mess. "How about you stop pointing guns at beautiful young ladies? There's only so many of them left, you know."

"They're feeding information to the Exes!" Jack yelled at John. "There's a whole lot of them heading straight for us!"

Rose gasped. "They're comin'?" she choked out.

"You should know!" Jack spat at her. "They'll be on us tomorrow afternoon!"

A ripple of reaction ran through the surrounding soldiers.

"We haven't done anythin'," Rose begged, but Jack couldn't seem to hear her through his temper. Either that or he didn't care. Probably the latter.

"Oh, be realistic, sir," John suddenly said, stepping up. Immediately Rose was terrified for his life. Jack could and would probably shoot him at any moment. "Look at them. They're not Exes, they're not spies, they've been working hard to save lives."

"Then how the hell do the Exes know we're here!?"

"I don't know but it's not them," John said calmly. "Look, the General's coming tomorrow so he can tell you who they are then."

Jack shook his head, frustrated. He grabbed the still unconscious Doctor and hauled him over one shoulder.

"No, what are you doin'?" Rose asked, terrified.

"This way," he grunted, gesturing to the door.

"What? Why?"

"You're spending the night in the holding cells. When the General gets here tomorrow he can identify you but until then you're both under arrest. So follow me or I'll just shoot you here and now. Okay, Barbie?"

Rose couldn't seem to move; frozen to the spot in pure fear and the realisation that this was it.

They wouldn't be able to escape.

She could barely look at John as she was taken away by two soldiers, straight to the cells.

* * *

The Doctor woke up from thankfully a dreamless sleep.

He jerked awake, pulling open his eyes to meet the sight of a metal ceiling above him. He abruptly realised he was lying on a cold, hard floor, and that someone else was close, pacing. He turned his head in the direction of the pacing to see Rose through some bars walking back and forth, her hands entangled deep in her hair.

"Rose?" he asked.

She looked up. She looked like she'd been crying.

Almost immediately she dived to her knees next to the bars, reaching through the gap to him. He obliged by getting to his knees and taking her hand.

"Jack arrested us," she muttered. "The Exes are gonna attack tomorrow afternoon and he think we told them. Says he's waiting for the General to recognise us tomorrow..."

She trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

He nodded. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll get us out, okay?"

"How?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"I don't know, but I will," he said firmly. "We must still be in the base...?"

She nodded. "We're in the holding cells."

The Doctor pushed himself up, wincing at the pain in his leg. He hopped up to the door of the cell, grabbing the bars.

"Hello! Captain! Hello!" he yelled, shaking the bars of the door loudly. "Jack!"

It took a few minutes, but eventually Jack appeared in the corridor. He walked up to the cell, gazing at the Doctor. "What?"

"This is ridiculous," the Doctor told him. "What proof have you got that we've been informing the Exes?"

"You turn up, the Exes know where we are all the time," Jack spat back, his eyes narrowed.

"The first time was a mistake, and this one we've got nothing to do with," the Doctor insisted.

"You got any evidence of that?"

"Have you got any evidence of us?" the Doctor countered immediately. "Guilty until proven innocent around here, then?"

Jack stepped right up to the bars, staring hard at the Doctor. "I can arrest who I like when I like for whatever reason I like and I don't need a damn shred of evidence. I don't even know who the hell you are. Actually it's bad practise I didn't arrest you sooner."

"You didn't because you  _need_ us," the Doctor stressed. "Without us you've got no medical."

"When the General gets here and verifies who you are then you'll be out in time for the attack to do all your bandage stuff, won't you?" Jack spat.

"No, Jack, just stop and look," the Doctor said, gesturing to himself and Rose. "Do you really think we look like Exe informants?" The Doctor pulled down his collar, exposing his neck before turning, presenting himself. "No bites, no infection. We haven't even been eating the red meat. Why would two humans, uninfected be working with the Exes? It doesn't make any sense because it's  _not happening."_

Jack suddenly laughed, startling the Time Lord. He looked the Doctor, panning up and down. "You've got no  _idea,_ have you?"

"What?" the Doctor asked quickly.

"This should be easy as hell," Jack muttered, and with that he turned on his heel and left before the Doctor could even fathom what he'd said. As soon as the Doctor regained his senses he grabbed the bars and began shaking them again, calling out the Captain's name. After a few long moments it was clear Jack wasn't coming back.

"Doctor?" Rose asked quietly in the ensuing silence as the Doctor gave up. "What did he mean?"

The Doctor sighed, dropping to sit against the bars separating them. "I'm missing something. Something's happening which I've missed…"

"Like what?"

"I dunno," he breathed, pausing for a moments as his brain quickly skipped from one impossible resolution to another. When he came up with nothing he looked at her, offering his hand through the bars for her to take. She obliged, taking it in both her hands.

"We've gotta get out," she suddenly whispered.

He nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard." He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and pulled out the sonic, flipping it in the air and catching it. He grinned at her, and she smiled back as he slipped it back inside.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

* * *

It reached 12:55am. They had both pretended to be asleep for the hourly patrol, before getting up and going to doors of their cells. The Doctor checked the corridor, but winced and shrank back.

"Lots of guards," he muttered. "We're going to have to run."

Rose's eyes widened. "But… they'll shoot us."

"I know," he muttered. "We need a distraction…"

He checked the corridor again, and as if on cue suddenly John appeared in amongst the throng of guards. He had a short conversation with them that the Doctor couldn't hear, and almost immediately they dispersed.

John then looked down the corridor, catching the Doctor's eye. He grinned and advanced.

"Thought you might need a hand escaping," John said.

"Who's escaping?" the Doctor asked defensively.

"Doctor," Rose said sternly.

He gave her a look. He was aiming for the look that said, 'seriously, I know what I'm doing' but she completely ignored it. Instead she beckoned him towards her and grabbed his shirt, pulling him against the bars.

 _"Trust him,"_ she hissed. "He's saved my life, your life, what more d'you want?"

The Doctor gazed at her, looking down at her hand clutching his shirt. Her knuckles were white. He looked back at her - she was glaring at him quite unlike anything he'd seen before from her.

She was changing as a product of her constant terror. He could see that. They had to leave. He didn't trust John, but equally they needed his help to get out.

"Okay," he muttered and turned to John. "Is the way clear?"

"Yes," John replied as the Doctor whipped out his sonic and buzzed the lock of his cell door. It opened immediately and he stepped out, cautiously checking before opening Rose's door.

"Stay close," he muttered, slipping the sonic back in his pocket and sticking out his hand for her to take. "Be quiet."

She nodded fervently, taking his hand and letting him lead her up the corridor after John. They passed through the outer door, past the interrogation room and to the door that led into the main room. The Doctor quickly pushed her back as some soldiers walked by.

"No, no, no," the Doctor muttered suddenly.

"What?"

"The 1am guard's early…"

Rose stared at him. "But… he can't be."

"Don't worry about him," John said, winking. "He's a bit simple. I'll get rid of him."

And with that John strode across the room and engaged the guard in quiet conversation. After a moment the guard laughed, turned and left his post.

John did a quick scan of the room before beckoning them over. They darted out from their hiding place, running across the main room to the exit where Rose met John in a hug.

"Thank you so much," she said, smiling.

"Hey, less hugging and more running," John said, grinning at her and pointing at the exit.

Rose nodded. "... Good luck," she eventually said and started down the corridor. She was so eager to get out she let go of the Doctor's hand, leaving him in her dust.

The Doctor looked at John. "Thank you," he said seriously.

John gave a mock salute. "No problem."

"And I'm sorry for... You know."

John laughed. "Oh, you're so cute with your apologies. Get going already."

The Doctor nodded, and left in a hurried limp after Rose.

* * *

Being outside was weird, Rose decided.

Sure, she'd been out on missions, but that had never felt like outside. That had felt like inside; a cage, keeping them locked inside. She could swear the air was different to usual. It was stronger and had some sort of taste to it. And the way it hit her face, rustled her clothes and blew her hair gently was something she'd never stopped to notice before.

Freedom, she decided. This was freedom.

"Rose!"

The Doctor's voice drifted to her on the wind and she smiled, turning back to him as he limped out of the gate, clearly in some pain. She gasped and dived to him immediately.

"Sorry!" she said, offering him some support. "Anxious to get out," she admitted.

"Don't blame you," he said, but he was frowning.

"What?"

"That was easy," he muttered.

"You sound like you're complainin'," she said, still clinging to his arm.

"It was just too easy."

"Shut up and take a bit of good luck, yeah?" she said. "We're out, that's all that matters."

He sighed. "Suppose so," he said, before straightening up. "Okay. Let's get a jeep and get out of here."

Rose nodded, leading him over to a jeep. Then she paused.

"Yeah, so, um... problem," she said, staring at the jeep.

"What?"

"I can't drive. Well I drove once," she said thoughtfully. "One of Mickey's work ones. Crashed it and had to help Mickey fix it before anyone noticed."

"Okay," he said. "I'll drive, but you'll have to break and accelerate."

"Wait, you can drive?"

He sniffed. "I used to have a car."

"What? Seriously? When?"

"Back in the 70's... Or was it the 80's? I had her in Unit."

"Her," Rose repeated.

"Beautiful yellow-plated Edwardian roadster," he suddenly launched into without prompt, looking like a boy with an ice cream. "Stainless steel silver hubcaps, carbon fibre dashboard, built-in increased gravity stabiliser, packing infinite horses with a minimum inertia hyperdrive, anti-theft force field and remote control. Nought to light-speed and back again in a nanosecond."

Rose stared at him. "You and Mickey need to hang out more. C'mon, get in."

She helped him into the jeep, letting him get into position before she climbed to sit on his lap, hovering her feet over the pedals. The Doctor turned the key, and the engine jumped into life.

* * *

After some co-ordination and a few minor collisions, between them they managed to drive the jeep back to the building Jack had taken them from so long ago. With the Doctor's arm slung around Rose's shoulder, together followed the Doctor's instinct for the TARDIS; up stairs, through corridors and holes in walls until they reached a room Rose recognised - the dining room where she had begged Jack for her life.

"She's close," the Doctor muttered, panning his eyes around the room.

"I know where," she said quickly, pulling him into the corridor.

It surprised her how vividly she remembered running this way dragging his body. But she knew every twist and turn she'd taken and now she retraced her steps, right back to the TARDIS. She was still half-buried until concrete, exactly as they'd left her.

Immediately they both began to shift the rubble, until eventually they got it cleared just enough to access her.

Rose then pulled the key out from around her neck. She felt a little naked without its warm ebb against her heart. She looked at the Doctor, who grinned and nodded; gesturing for her to continue.

As though opening the door to a pirate's treasure trove, she slowly slid in the key, turned, and swung the door inwards.

At the sight of the beautiful innards of the ship, Rose couldn't help but let go a cry of pure relief. This was it. They were out.

She ran into the ship and felt compelled to hug the console, so she did. She threw herself at the time rotor, hugging and kissing it repeatedly

"Love you! Love you!" she told the TARDIS, despite the utter absurdity of declaring love for a machine. But she didn't care. In reply, the machine simply continued to ebb her beautiful colours and vibrate beneath Rose's feet. Ready to go. Ready to get them out of here.

She'd half expected the Doctor to make a joke about getting slobber all over his precious time machine, but he hadn't.

"Not worried about my slobber?" she asked, but her voice seemed to echo into nothing. She turned, and saw that the Doctor hadn't entered yet.

She moved forward immediately to the door. "Doctor, c'mon," she said as she reached the door, "I need a bath and you've gotta pilot to Tesco so we can get some salts, so…"

She trailed off as she realised why the Doctor hadn't entered. Jack was standing there flanked by soldiers, pressing a gun to the restrained Time Lord's head.

"No!" Rose screamed out, every pore of her body seething anger, fear and hatred for Jack. "Let him go, let  _us_ go!"

"God, you can scream," a familiar voice suddenly said from her left.

John.

Her heart turned to ice.

"... How could you?" was all she managed in the little breath she had.

"Rose, get in the Tardis, get out!" the Doctor shouted urgently.

She completely ignored him, utterly enraged at John. "You sold us out!"

John pulled an insincere, 'oh, what a shame' face. "Well, darling, is it really selling out if this was the plan all along?"

"What!?" she gasped.

"Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Captain John Hart," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

She pulled it away in disgust as Jack laughed. "Captain?" he repeated sarcastically.

"Can't I have a play-name too?" John whined facetiously.

"Wait, you're not a Captain?" Rose asked Jack, open-jawed.

"She catches on fast, doesn't she?" John teased, looking at the Doctor. "I can't believe you fell for that. Seriously, I can't. Jack, he apologised to me. Me!"

 _"You_ got an apology?" Jack wondered, laughing.

"Get on with it," the Doctor suddenly spat.

"What? No back-story? A little ex-position as to how we got into this complete clusterfuck?" Jack asked him. "It's pretty quick. John's my partner."

"Don't ask what kind, the list takes too long," John advised them.

"I wanted to know who you were so I got him to get close to you," Jack explained. "Well, not you. Your girlfriend. Easier target."

Rose flinched. "... You poisoned him, didn't you?" she realised, staring at John.

He nodded. "Once you told me what species he was I just had to go to a library…"

"Oh please," Jack interrupted. "You've never been to a library."

John ignored him and continued, "... find a poison that would take him out for a while and administer it. Once you told me you were time travellers and Jack and Plax, that was all I needed. I woke pretty boy up, we pretended the General was coming so you'd scream your pigtails off, then we pretended we were about to be attacked and arrested you so you  _had_ to escape and give us a reason to keep you here. Breaking out of the cells, naughty naughty," he said, tutting and waving his finger. "That's a death penalty."

"What do you want?" the Doctor asked dully.

"Well, that's easy," Jack said, and inclined his head to his soldiers. "Take the time machine."

Rose quickly slammed the door closed, but deliberately left herself on the outside. "Don't think so," she spat.

"Get the key," Jack drawled.

Immediately soldiers swarmed her, frisking her for the key.

"Get off!" Rose cried, desperately trying to push them off. They didn't, at least, until they found the key around her neck and pulled it off, the string breaking.

"Open the door," Jack said to his soldiers. Rose looked desperately at the Doctor, whose eyes were on fire.

"You won't get in," he grated.

"Wanna bet?" Jack asked. "Open the door already," he directed to his soldiers. After a few moments it became clear it wasn't opening.

"Isomorphic, cute," John concluded, taking the key from the soldiers. "Okay, let's try it this way."

He raised his gun and pointed it directly at Rose's head as he gazed at the Doctor. "Open the door, or I'll shoot her."

"No, don't," Rose said quickly. "Doctor, don't do it."

"Please, Doctor!" John said mockingly in an imitation of her voice. "Open it! Save me please!"

The Doctor's eyes flickered between the Time Agent and his companion. Rose locked her eyes onto his.

 _'It's okay',_  she tried to communicate through her eyes.  _'Don't give her up.'_

The Doctor looked like he was in a considerable amount of pain, until suddenly his eyes widened. Fear, desperation, panic.

Sadness.

Resignation.

"Rose," he whined. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Rose was about to ask him what he was talking about, when suddenly she realised she felt so incredibly cold. Her chest was tightening, her body feeling heavy and tired...

"What-" she began, but was interrupted by a pain suddenly exploding inside her head. She screamed and clutched her skull as agony pulsed inside it so badly she dropped to her knees, gasping, coughing, retching...

* * *

The Doctor could do nothing but stand there, watching as Rose Tyler - the girl he'd sworn to protect - turned into an Ex.


	12. On His Own

The moment she turned, the soldiers, Jack and John immediately raised their weapons at her. With some sort of renewed strength the Doctor tore away from his captors and threw himself over her, protecting her.

"That's not your girlfriend anymore!" Jack shouted seriously.

"Shoot her and you'll regret it, Captain Jack Harkness," the Doctor warned.

"She's infected!" Jack insisted.

"You'll have to shoot me first!" the Doctor snapped.

Jack spread a smile. "Well, that's okay because you'll just regenerate, won't you?"

"Maybe you're not getting it," the Doctor began, turning to him with a true ferocity in his eyes. "Shoot her, and I'll  _kill_ you."

"Yeah?" Jack asked insincerely. "How?"

"Slowly," the Doctor spat. He said it with such hatred and bile that for once, Jack looked a little uncomfortable, but he quickly reasserted himself.

"I'm not taking her back to the base."

"Then you'll just have to leave us here, won't you?"

"Fat chance," Jack said, glancing at John. John gave an indifferent shrug. Jack sighed. "All right, you can bring your girlfriend. If she bites anyone I'm shooting her dead, you got that?"

"Loud and clear,  _sir_ ," the Doctor said, spitting out the last word insincerely. He turned back to Rose, who was still unconscious. He reached up to her temple and made sure that she'd stay sleeping for the trip.

* * *

The Doctor had had all of his possessions taken away - sonic screwdriver included and they'd only left him his trousers and shirt to wear. They had been confined back to the cells, Rose in one and the Doctor in the other. She'd been sleeping all that time, but the Doctor was watching her closely - her skin was paling, her cheekbones hollow and her eyes dark. A full-scale Ex.

How had she been infected? It had to have been on a mission at some point. A tiny scratch; an infected scrape that had slowly but surely been multiplying within her. But why hadn't she told him? She would have told him, surely? Unless she didn't know…

Either way, it was now fruitless thinking about how. She was infected, and he didn't have a cure.

But there  _had_ to be something.

He curled up into the foetal position, his mind flickering through all the possibilities. None of them seemed viable.

The one thing he was sure about was Jack's next move. Jack wanted the TARDIS - sure, Time Agents could time travel, but a time machine on the scale of the TARDIS was technology the Time Agency could only dream of, and if Jack was the one to give it to them he'd skip Captain altogether and jump right up to Commander, John too.

They would do anything to get his ship. Extortion, torture, threatening Rose - even if she was an Ex. He was ready for it.

Suddenly there was the sound of someone shifting. He looked at Rose, who was finally coming to. He didn't move to the bars. Not yet.

"Rose?" he asked.

Her head rose, her long blonde hair trailing across the floor as she looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time in her life. The whites of her eyes were yellow, her pupils dilated, and without warning she launched herself at the bars with her teeth out, ready to bite.

He didn't move. He didn't even flinch. His hearts just sank.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

She didn't care for his apology as he stuck her hand through the bars that separated them, desperately groping for him. Her crazed, animalistic expression was so wrong on her face.

It wasn't her, he reminded himself. This wasn't Rose, this was Ex-Rose, just inhabiting her body. She'd happily devour him for his flesh.

But was there something in there?

He forced himself to gaze at her, straight into those dead eyes. "Rose," he said softly. "Are you in there?"

He got nothing back.

* * *

Jack's soldiers had come to retrieve him sooner than the Doctor had anticipated, but he knew Jack wouldn't weaste any time with this. He was escorted out of the cells, leaving the ferocious Ex-Rose behind and taken to the interrogation room. He was forced by gunpoint into a chair on one side of a metal table, where suddenly his hands were enveloped in a bright blue light, and they were forcibly dragged towards the table, slamming his wrists down onto the surface as two metal cuffs slid up out of the table and held his hands firmly in place. No escape.

He sat there in silence for a good few minutes, mentally flickering through what he was going say. In front of him was a mirror - clearly double-sided - where John would probably be standing for this.

Eventually Jack came in. He locked the door behind him, acknowledging the Doctor with an upbeat greeting as he dropped into the opposing seat, propping his feet on the table.

The Doctor had no doubt what would happen next. Time Agents were trained in expert interrogation, with absolutely no regard for morality.

"Let's cut to the chase," Jack began. "Who are you?"

"The Medical Corp," the Doctor replied immediately.

"Yeah, I think we both know that's not true," Jack said seriously, adjusting his position on the seat.

The Doctor didn't answer that.

"What's your objective?" Jack repeated smoothly, losing no hint of his patience.

"I told you, we're from the Medical Corp. We're here to help."

"Okay," Jack began, dropping his feet and leaning forward on the table, staring at the Doctor. "Let me give you a few reasons why you're not from the Medical Corp. You don't have a valid ID. You don't have a uniform. Your assistant looks like she's come out of Vogue and you look like Sherlock Holmes with hair gel. You have no military discipline; you fraternise with each other, you seem to have trouble calling me sir and your assistant doesn't seem to have had any field training; a standard procedure. You don't understand the confines of your job and when you two first arrived you didn't seem to be briefed. John's told me that Barbie admitted to him you weren't part of the war. He also said you know me in the future."

The Doctor took a breath, and steeled himself. "We're from the Medical Corp."

Jack paused for a moment, shaking his head. "Please don't make me force it out of you."

"We're from the Medical Corp."

"Don't make me hurt that pretty face."

"... We're from the Medical Corp."

Jack sighed. "Dammit. Okay. How about your Tardis? Do I have to do the old 'if you don't give it I'll shoot your girlfriend' thing?"

The Doctor stared at him firmly, but didn't answer.

"This isn't the first time you've done this, is it?" Jack supposed idly.

The Doctor remained absolutely silent.

"I'm not gonna play nice much longer," Jack warned lowly.

The Doctor didn't reply to this either.

"Fuck's sake," Jack cursed, standing up. He pressed a button and to the Doctor's surprise the metal cuffs retracted, leaving him free to use his hands again. He rubbed his wrists, looking up at Jack, confused.

"I'm gonna give you an hour to think about telling me the truth," Jack told him as the door opened and few soldiers came in and restrained the Doctor, pulling him out. He just let them drag him out, unrelenting, back to the cells where they threw him in and locked the door.

Rose was still awake, clawing at the concrete ground. He tried to ignore this, dropping to lie down on the floor, closing his eyes and blocking her out.

He had an hour to mentally prepare himself for the interrogation.

* * *

It seemed like five minutes later the soldiers returned, picking him up and dragging him back to the interrogation room, but he was ready. He said nothing, did nothing and merely moved to their will as they sat him back down in the chair, though this time they didn't cuff him. He was so focused he didn't even wonder why.

Jack entered and stood over him, his arms folded.

"Identity?" he asked.

The Doctor didn't reply, just staring at the wall.

"Tardis?" Jack tried.

Again, the Doctor didn't reply.

Jack sighed. "Get up."

"Jack," the Doctor finally said, and Jack paused. "Let us go. You don't know what mistake you're making."

"If you're trying to change my mind about this you're not doing a very good job," Jack told him seriously.

"We just want to leave," the Doctor said calmly. "We're no part of this War."

"Heard enough," Jack suddenly said, and it quickly became apparent what Jack was going to do as he wrenched a metal bar off of the wall and balanced it in his hand. But the Doctor had been expecting it. "Get up."

"Jack, you  _really_  don't want to do this," the Doctor warned.

"Maybe you should start talking then?" Jack suggested. "You know me in the future, right?"

The Doctor fell silent.

"Okay then," Jack said. "Get the hell up."

The Doctor stared at Jack, almost disappointed as he got to his feet, and tensed himself. But then he realised Jack was leaving. He unlocked the door, and in slipped John.

"Round one," Jack told the Doctor, before looking at John and handing him the metal bar. "In one piece, please. And not the face. I like the face."

"Spoil sport," John muttered as Jack closed the door and locked it behind him.

* * *

Ex-Rose looked up sharply as a group of tasty-looking soldiers approached her cell. Between them they were carrying a man - she recognised him. He'd been in the cell next to hers most of the afternoon. They carried him to her, and paused.

"Which cell do we put him in?" one asked.

"I dunno. With the girl I guess," another one replied.

"She's an Ex, though," the first one pointed out.

"Well if they're together he might be infected too," the second one said.

"Oh god, get him in before he wakes up," the first one said as the second one opened the cell door, pointing a gun straight at Ex-Rose's head. Ex-Rose knew better than to attack now so she restrained herself, curled up in the corner as they deposited the body, locked the door and left.

Then she was alone with the man. She scrambled to him on all fours, experimentally prodding him with a finger. He was unconscious, clearly injured, and she could see rivulets of his blood dripping down from his body onto the floor. They looked so tasty, and the smell he was giving off was absolutely divine. She ran her nose from his legs to his head, taking in deep, measured sniffs. She dared to lick his cheek. The taste on her tongue she ended up sucking on for a good few seconds after it was so nice.

His smell was deliciously intoxicating, and even one lick told her all she need to know for how amazing he'd taste.

She picked up his limp arm, holding up his fingers to her mouth. She leaned forward, teeth out, ready to take a bite…

 _He's hurt!_ a voice screamed inside her head, panicked. She paused, frowning. Something wasn't right here. He did look and smell very tasty, but something, somewhere inside her was holding her back with his fingers hovering millimetres from her lips.

His face. She seemed to know it more than any other face here. She reached forward tentatively, running her cold fingers down his cheek. His skin was so warm. She dug her fingernails in, just to test its pliability. The texture of his skin would be a little chewy, she thought, but not difficult to digest.

No. She didn't want to eat him.

Did she?

She abruptly realised she'd inadvertently covered the ends of her fingers in his blood.

 _Eat it!_ a voice screamed inside her head.

No. This was… she knew him. She knew this man. And she didn't want to hurt him. She couldn't let herself taste test his blood, in case she couldn't stop...

Impulsively she wiped her fingers on her jeans, dropped his arm and backed away from the helpless body, curling up and burying her head.

* * *

The Doctor groaned, shifting slightly as he came to. His body was hurting in various places, but not nearly as bad as he'd been expecting. He could still move his limbs. Clearly Jack's interrogation was going to come in stages. None of his limbs were broken. Yet. Small victories, he thought.

He opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and saw Ex-Rose sitting across the same cell from him, curled up in the corner.

Immediately he panicked, ignoring all pains and backing up into the corner, quickly checking himself over for bites. There weren't any. Had Jack purposely put him in here? No, Jack wouldn't want him infected. Someone had made a mistake…

He turned back to the cell bars, ready to make a noise to alert the guards. But suddenly a thought drifted through his brain. No. Wait. Why hadn't Rose eaten him? He'd been bleeding - exposed wounds. That should have been irresistible to an Ex.

He turned back to her, and thought some more. Rose was still in there. It was the only explanation.

"Rose?" he tried.

Ex-Rose didn't say anything, remaining curled up.

"Rose, please let me know if you're in there," he almost begged.

No reply.

"You haven't eaten me," he continued. "You should have eaten me. It's me, Rose, it's the Doctor. You recognised me, didn't you?"

Finally she looked up at the sound of his name. Those dead eyes seemed to be staring straight into his soul.

"You know me," he continued, daring to inch forward slightly. "You stopped yourself from hurting me."

He moved forward a little more. Suddenly Ex-Rose snapped, launching forward with her teeth bared. The Doctor quickly backed away, arms in the air. "The Doctor," he told her quickly. "I'm the Doctor."

She stopped, frowned, and crawled back to her corner again.

He realised he couldn't approach her, but she seemed to be having a battle of instincts. The instinct not to hurt him from the Rose part of her, and the instinct to designate him dinner from the Ex part of her. The two were in contention.

But how was it possible? He'd seen the spread of this infection before - the person was always completely lost, even to friends and family. Was her body made stronger by her travels with him? Something to do with the background radiation?

Either way, it gave him a small glimmer of hope in what had seemed like spiralling darkness. If there was a bit of Rose left, maybe he could cure her. He just didn't know how. And now Jack had him captured and had begun the increments of interrogation, he would only get weaker, bleed more, and become more and more tempting for her to eat.

He had to escape.

But as he sat there locked in the cell with a carnivorous Rose, no sonic screwdriver or a notion of a plan, he had to wonder just how he was going to manage it.


	13. New Year's Eve

It had been nearly a week of being held in the cells.

Jack and John had been progressively interrogating him, getting more and more severe as the days passed, but he still refused to give up any information or the Tardis. His shoulder was dislocated and his left arm broken, but they hadn't bothered getting him any treatment. He'd made some makeshift bandages instead from ripping his shirt, but he was acutely aware that he was being more and more wounded, which meant more and more blood, which, just as he'd suspected, he'd become more and more tempting to Ex-Rose.

When the soldiers had retrieved him the first time they had realised that he wasn't an Ex and had been baffled that Ex-Rose hadn't attacked him. He'd just shrugged and suggested she was full. Thankfully they'd taken that reason, but had been careful to put him back in the other cell ever since. He desperately didn't want to draw any attention to it.

As he became more and more injured with every passing day, Ex-Rose became more and more desperate for him. The smell of his Time Lord blood was clearly driving her crazy. He supposed that his Time Lord blood was slightly more exotic than human blood - like humans were bread and butter and he was a Michelin star chef's signature dish. Occasionally she'd throw herself at the bars between them, her teeth bared, but she couldn't get through.

Though they were feeding him, he wasn't eating it. They weren't feeding her, so he always put his plate through the bars and backed off quickly, hoping the smell of meat would attract her. It did, and she'd ferociously consumed the food each time. He did it partly as a means of not letting her starve to death, but also to hopefully stop her looking at him like he was a Chocolate Parfait. It barely worked.

Jack and John usually had him for around two hours a day and he was allowed one toilet break a day, heavily supervised of course. Despite that, he'd been trying desperately to check his surroundings for an idea of an escape route, but nothing feasible had stirred in his brain yet. Jack and John had a clearly anticipated everything.

He'd continued to hallucinate, but he'd persistently ignored them, which was easier said than done as he spent all day locked in a cell, no visitors, no distractions and no sleep. He was too scared to sleep. He was well aware that if this kept on, he'd be dead before Spring.

On New Year's Eve he was taken to the interrogation room. Jack strolled in where the Doctor was on the floor, a cosh in the Time Agent's hand. The Doctor had no doubt he was about to feel the end of it. He'd become used to it by now.

"New year, new chance," Jack declared, weighing the cosh in his hand. "Give me what I want. I'm not gonna ask nicely next year."

The Doctor internally sighed. "No comment," he muttered.

Jack sighed heavily. "All right," he said. "Stand up."

Cautiously the Doctor got up, balancing himself on the wall.

Jack stepped forward, raising the cosh. The Doctor flinched and tensed, but to his complete surprise Jack wasn't bringing it down on him.

He was holding it out to the Doctor.

"Take it," the Time Agent instructed. The Doctor did so, completely confused. "Now give me your best shot."

In half a second of the few that followed the Doctor realised what Jack was doing. But he already knew he wasn't going to hurt Jack no matter what. So as Jack started running towards him, the Doctor dropped the cosh onto the floor, and stood immobile, his eyes closed…

* * *

Later, Jack reviewed the footage from the interrogation. He always did this, just in case the subject had said something he'd missed whilst he was doing his business – or indeed which techniques had worked the best.

 _"New year, new chance,"_  Jack heard himself say.  _"Give me what I want. I'm not gonna ask nicely next year."_

 _"No comment,"_  the mysterious Doctor man muttered.

 _"All right,"_  Jack said. _"Stand up."_

The Time Lord stood up, unbalanced.

Jack offered him the cosh. _"Take it. Now give me your best shot."_

Then as Jack stared at the Doctor, he went completely cold. The Doctor had dropped the cosh before Jack had even reached him. He hadn't realised before.

He watched in horror through the twenty minute recording – he had thought the Doctor was just a weakling but now he realised the Doctor had in fact not attacked at all – only defended. Not even a punch. Nothing. He'd taken the beating completely without a fight...

* * *

Jack ordered the guards to bring the Doctor to him immediately in the interrogation room. When he'd arrived he was dazed, bleeding and barely conscious, but Jack didn't care. He marched in, grabbed the Time Lord's lapels and held him an inch from his face. "Why the fuck didn't you attack me?!"

The Doctor only coughed in reply, barely able to keep his eyes open. Jack screamed and threw him down on the floor, planting a few more kicks in his side out of sheer frustration before backing away, forcing himself to calm down with a few deep breaths.

"Okay," he began again, pacing up and down in front of the Doctor's body. "I gave you a weapon, I gave you a motivation..." He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide as he spun around and yelled in delight, "it was a double-bluff, wasn't it?!"

The Doctor wheezed on the floor, struggling to breath. Jack's expression fell. No, it wasn't that.

He stooped to the Doctor, looking down at him seriously. "Why didn't you attack me?"

The Doctor swallowed, shaking. "I... would never... hurt you," he breathed.

Jack stared at him, brow furrowed. "What? What do I matter to you?"

"I can't... tell you."

Jack blinked. "What? Is this future me? How do I know you?"

"I... can't tell... you."

Jack's anger boiled, but he just about managed to put the lid on it. "Well, you'd better start talking fast," he snapped. "Because this only getting worse, Time Lord. I'll shoot your girlfriend, I swear to god."

"You… You don't want to… to do that," the Doctor gasped. Jack was about to dismiss this, when he realised there was real, honest emotion in the Time Lord's eyes.

"What the hell aren't you telling me?" Jack wanted to know, but the Time Lord had passed out.

Jack screamed in frustration and ordered the guards to take the Doctor back to his cell before he stormed out. He'd get it out of him tomorrow, even if the Time Lord was proving a tough nut to crack.

* * *

The Doctor woke up somewhere near midnight, only to discover his guards were gone and his cell door was absolutely caked in chains. He could hear celebrations happening beyond his cell - the joyous cries of drunk soldiers celebrating. Music was pumping, glasses were smashing and someone had even managed to get vuvuzelas and party horns.

Their camaraderie was so distant to him.

"Everyone get ready, countdown's coming!" a muted voice yelled through the layers of walls from the gathering.

They were counting down the new year.

He looked at Ex-Rose. She was looking up, as if pausing to listen.

"New year," he breathed in realisation, wincing as he moved to the bars that separated them. "Rose, do you remember new year? After I regenerated?"

She wasn't even looking at him.

"We went to the London Eye to watch the fireworks with your mum and Mickey," he persisted. "You forgot your gloves so you held onto my hands to get your hands warm, but my right hand still made you cringe. Then your mum went out partying, Mickey went home to get up for work and you and me went back to watch the stars from the roof of the flats. Do you remember that?"

She didn't seem to even hear him. His heart sank. Maybe it had been too long. Maybe Rose was gone, now.

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy new year!" Hundreds of people cried simultaneously. The music became louder, people laughed and shouted and cheered.

"Happy new year, Rose," he muttered.

He got no response.

He dropped to the hard, cold floor, trying not to move too much in a way that would disturb his broken bones. He was so tired. Maybe if he went to sleep, just maybe it would be dreamless?

"Doctor!" came a sudden hiss from outside his cell. The Doctor looked up in surprise.

"Chris?" he asked weakly.

"Oh fuck," Chris muttered, staring at him. "They've beaten the shit out of you, haven't they? Here. I know you don't get enough food."

He slid a plate of party food through the slot in the cell door. Tuna sandwiches, crisps, bread sticks and cheese and pineapple canapés. The Doctor's stomach rumbled at the sight. There was no meat on the plate, and Ex-Rose wasn't remotely interested. The Doctor crawled forward, grunting with pain as he reached the plate and took it.

"Thank you," the Doctor said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

The Doctor picked up a canapé, pulling it all off of the stick in one motion with his teeth. Never had canapés tasted so good. The cheese was squishy and lovely, coating the inside of his mouth, and the pineapple exploded with tasty, refreshing juice as he bit into it. He decided then and there that if he ever got out of here, he would travel to whoever invented canapés and kiss their shoes.

After he managed to clean his mouth of cheese with his tongue he looked up at Chris, confused. "Why are you helping me?"

Chris shrugged. "The Captain says you're a spy but I don't believe a word of it. What's he done you in for?"

"He wants my ship and I'm not giving it to him," the Doctor answered.

Ship? So you're not a soldier."

The Doctor shook his head, stuffing the next canape into his mouth. "We landed here by accident."

Chris nodded, his gaze drifting to Ex-Rose. "Crap, she really  _is_  an Ex. I'm so sorry. She was nice."

"I'll cure her," the Doctor replied shortly and tersely.

Chris just nodded at that, before leaning closer in. "Hey, look, if there's anything you want me to do… and I mean  _anything,"_ he emphasised, gazing at the Doctor with wide eyes. "Just say, all right?"

The Doctor nodded slowly. "Okay."

"There's a guard posted on you, his name's Trent," Chris continued lowly, repeatedly glancing at the outer door. "He'll get a message to me."

The Doctor nodded again silently.

"Happy new year," Chris finished, offering him a small smile. "I'd better get back before they miss me."

"Thank you," the Doctor said again quickly.

Chris gave a mock salute. "You're welcome," he said, and then he was gone.

The Doctor retreated to the corner of his cell, hoarding his party food. It was pathetic, he thought, how he savoured every little bite like a starved hamster. But he ate it gratefully in the perpetual silence of his cell.

* * *

Jack and John were sitting in the middle of the party, both slightly drunk. The New Year's party had been the soldiers' idea, and Jack had to admit it had been quite a good one. It had been a while since they'd got some alcohol.

But he couldn't stop thinking about the Time Lord, and why he hadn't attacked. Jack had given him a weapon to give him a fair fight, but he hadn't used it. What kind of man would do that?

He looked at John, who was busy chatting up a good-looking blond soldier next to him. Jack elbowed him to get his attention, and John rolled his eyes, waving the soldier away.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't think the Time Lord's giving up his info. I don't think we should keep interrogating him. It's going nowhere."

John rolled his eyes. "Well darling, if you will insist on talking about work."

"I'm serious."

"He's playing you," he told Jack. "He didn't attack you so you'd get mopey like this. You know Time Lords. Slippery little things. Wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

Jack was unsure. "I dunno. He took a hell of a beating."

"He's used to it, he's Time Lord," John said seriously. "The Daleks were torture professionals in the Time War, all the Time Lords got trained to tune out pain."

"He's not tuning out," Jack said seriously. "He's just taking it."

"Well, maybe we should hug, kiss, apologise and invite him to join the party?" John wondered, somewhat sarcastically.

Jack threw him a look. "God, I'm getting another drink," he muttered, standing up. John just rolled his eyes and stood up too, going off to find that soldier again.

Jack reached the drink table, about to pour himself another hyper-vodka when he saw one of the Time Lord's guards in the corner. Jack frowned, moving to her. "Hey, Private."

The soldier turned abruptly, saluted, and almost fell over. "Zir?" she slurred.

"Who the hell's guarding the cells?"

"Dun't worry, zir," the soldier said. "He s'not geshhing out. Shained up she door."

"You chained up the door?" Jack clarified.

"Yesh," the soldier replied. She still hadn't ceased her salute. "And we gosh 'im in the righ' shell thish time."

"You got him in the right cell? What the hell does that mean?" Jack demanded to know, stepping forward.

The soldier finally dropped her salute to put her hand over her mouth in an, 'oops!' motion. "Whupsh," she said, horrified at what she'd said.

"Private!" Jack snapped, irritated.

"The Esch didn't eat 'im, shokay."

"Wait, you put him in the wrong cell and the Ex didn't eat him?" Jack clarified. The soldier nodded. "Why the hell not?"

The soldier just made a melodramatic shrugging motion, and immediately started giggling.

Jack rolled his eyes, about to move away when the soldier in front of him suddenly began to choke on her own drunken giggles. Her eyes widened, she grabbed her head, screamed and hit the floor within the space of three seconds before immediately beginning to convulse.

Immediately the crowd began to panic and scatter - everyone knew what this was. She was turning into an Ex. But how, why?

There was another yell from across the room. Another one!?

"Evacuate!" Jack shouted, and immediately the stampede began. People run in one mass to the door, trying desperately to get out. No one was armed.

Somehow, everyone managed to get out while the changed humans were unconscious. Jack shut the door and locked it tight.

"End of the party!" he announced to the milling crowd. "Go to bed!" He pulled aside the most sober-looking guard. "Get the prisoner from the cells and bring him here."

"Sir!" the guard said, snapping a salute and running off.

* * *

The Doctor had only just finished his food when the scream and yells of alarm began in the distance. There was only one explanation for it. Pretty soon a cluster of guards arrived at his cell, quickly clamping his hand in chains and taking him out of the cell. He could barely walk so they half-dragged him urgently through the corridors. but they weren't going to the interrogation room. They were going up the stairs back to the main base.

He was thrown at Jack's feet just outside the eating area. Jack looked down at him, grabbed his arm and hauled him up.

"Little bird tells me you didn't get attacked by the Ex," Jack said. "Thought I'd test a theory."

"What!?" the Doctor almost choked out. "Jack, they'll kill me!"

"Oh yeah?" Jack wondered, opened the door and threw him inside the abandoned eating area. Jack shut the door behind him and locked it.

The Doctor wasn't accustomed to panicking, but right now he was. He had no way of knowing but he was pretty sure that Ex-Rose hadn't attacked him because of the Rose left in her. He didn't know these people. They would rip him apart for his Time Lord meat...

He struggled to his feet, crying out but desperately trying to ignore the pain as he got to the porthole in the door. He banged the fist of his unbroken arm on the porthole frantically. He couldn't die. He didn't have time to go through regeneration. He had to save Rose.

"Jack!" he yelled. "She didn't attack me because there was a bit of Rose left, I don't know them, they'll kill me!"

The Doctor could see Jack's face staring at him through the porthole. He didn't believe him.

"Jack!" the Doctor urged, but he suddenly heard something from behind him. He turned, panicked, to find two Exes rising up, staring at him with the same carnivorous lust he'd been seeing in the face of Rose for a week. Except this time, there were no bars to protect him.

They began to run forward.


	14. War of the Exes

The Doctor immediately realised that he had no choice but to fight. He raised his hands, and tried desperately to recall his Venusian Aikido.

The Exes both charged towards him, one behind the other. He sidestepped one, grabbing its arm and using its force to turn it into the second one. They met in a crash of limbs and fell to the floor.

"Jack!" the Doctor called again, hissing through gritted teeth at the pain now coursing through his shoulder. "Let me out!"

The Exes were back up. One went for him. He took its arm again and pulled it over his dislocated shoulder, shrieking in the process as the Ex flew headlong into the wall. He then took a side step, stuck out his foot and caught the other one in mid-run. It spiralled to the floor. Something broke but the Ex didn't seem to care, jumping back up again for a second assault. The Doctor parried once more, before picking up an abandoned metal tray and using it as a shield to take a few blows with quick reflexes from the second Ex as he ducked and dodged the first.

"Jack!" he cried again, looking to the window. Jack was just staring, for once looking absolutely stunned.

The Doctor's distraction almost caused his death, when the second Ex ducked his metal shield and leg swept him. He crashed to the floor with a yelp, the metal dish flying out of his hand.

The two Exes loomed over him. He pulled back his legs and kicked out, but his body was was so weak he could barely get any force. Luckily the move caught the first Ex off guard and it stumbled backwards, allowing the Doctor enough time to scramble to his feet. But the second Ex was back, and clearly had spotted the Doctor's arm was causing him problems and instead of biting him, it caught that instead - yanking it bodily towards it. The Doctor shrieked out, bright white spots immediately blistering his vision of pure, undivided agony. He stumbled to his knees, trying to push the Ex away from his arm but barely about to stay upright. Impulsively he tried to pull his arm away but that made the pain even worse.

The Ex turned so his arm went up his back. The Doctor nearly passed out there and then. He fought to stay conscious as the first Ex dived onto him, its teeth bared. In desperation he flew out his free fist but the Ex deftly dodged it and grabbed his head and shoulder, exposing his neck ready to bite.

The Doctor grabbed its neck and clutched it tightly, desperately, but it made no difference. The second Ex yanked his arm again and this time he couldn't stop himself from passing out, hitting the floor, limp and unconscious.

* * *

The Doctor woke up, and immediately panicked.

He sat up to find he was back in his holding cell. Ex-Rose was still in the cell next to him. He quickly checked himself over for any bites or scratches but he was clean. Jack must have finally realised he was about to get killed and had stormed in and shot them before they could eat him. Either way his arm felt like it had been half torn off, but after a quick examination he realised that surprisingly the assault on it had put the dislocated bone back in its socket. Not that he dared to move it too much.

In the distance he could hear concentrated bursts of gunfire. There was some sort of fight going on. There was a guard on the door, so the Doctor struggled forward, grunting with pain.

"Hey," he said. The guard didn't move. "Hello?" The guard still didn't move.

The Doctor grabbed a bar of the cell door with his good hand and shook it. The guard still didn't move.

"Well, that's rude," the Doctor mused out loud. That made the guard turn. The Doctor was about to tell him to go and get Jack when suddenly he realised that the guard wasn't human. His cheeks were hollow, his skin pale, his lips blue... He was an Ex.

He growled at the Doctor and made to open the cell door.

The Doctor abruptly realised he couldn't defend himself again. He didn't have the strength left. He backed into the corner, desperate to keep the Ex away despite knowing it would do no good…

_Bang!_

A gunshot, and the Ex in front of him hit the floor - a bullet through his head. The Doctor looked up and saw Jack standing there, slightly panicked.

"Jack," the Doctor began, but Jack cut him off.

"They're all changing!" he cried.

"How?" the Doctor asked quickly.

"How the hell should I know!?" Jack cried. "You're the doctor! You tell me how it's happening!"

The Doctor thought hard. He'd recognised the people that Jack had let attack him. They had been guarding his cell. Plus the other one, guarding his cell…

The penny dropped.

"The virus has become airborne," the Doctor said. "Rose must have caught it from the girl… Maybe her resistance was up and it took a while but eventually it infected her… The guards must have caught it off of Ex-Rose and everyone else from them, like dominoes…"

Jack's eyes widened. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

"Right, come on, we're getting out," Jack said, making to undo the chains.

"Not without Rose," the Doctor said quickly, glancing at the girl in the next cell. She was still staring at him, her teeth bared.

"You fucking kidding!?" Jack swore. "She's infectious!"

"I'm not leaving her here!" the Doctor told him firmly.

"Dream on," Jack said. "I need you to get the fuck out of here in your time machine, she's just gotta die!"

"She's  _not_ dying!" the Doctor insisted. "If you won't bring her I'm not coming with you!"

Jack laughed, somewhat hysterically. "I don't need you conscious, Time Lord!"

The Doctor's eyes narrowed. "Last chance," he said, as Jack finally got the chains off of the door.

"What the hell are you on about? Come here!"

The Doctor swallowed, glancing at Rose. "Okay," he said, and thrust his arm straight through the bars into Ex-Rose's cell. Seconds later she plunged her teeth right into his flesh.

He cried out in pain, despite how much he'd prepared himself for it. He watched as the blood instantly began to run from around her teeth, quickly forming a puddle on the ground. He pulled back his arm purely by instinct, howling in pain and clutching it to his chest. Ex-Rose immediately dropped to all fours and began to lap up his blood like a carnivorous puppy as suddenly he felt the infection shoot up his arm, deadening his body process as it went straight to his brain.

It exploded with pain like a bomb going off inside his head. He screamed and fell the floor, convulsing as the infection wracked his body, coursing up and down his spine from his toes to his brain and everything in-between…

Who was he? He was the Doctor. A Time Lord. Gallifrey, Davros, Daleks, Rassilon, Omega…

He was the Doctor, a Time Lord. He was… He was the D… He was...

He passed out.

* * *

Jack yelled in alarm, backing away as the Time Lord collapsed, bleeding profusely from the wound in his arm. "No!" he shouted, but it was too late he knew. The Time Lord was now an Ex-Time Lord. Not even a Gallifreyan immune system could cope with the infection.

Jack swore loudly, and quickly ran out of the cells to join the evacuation.

* * *

When the Doctor woke up, someone was crying.

He opened his eyes to see a woman kneeling over him, sobbing. Immediately his instinct told him to attack her.

_Bite her! Scratch her! Infect her! Consume her!_

'No,' another little voice said from somewhere inside his jumbled-up head, 'she's your mother.'

He blinked and looked at her again. Yes. She  _was_ his mother. He couldn't infect his mother…

Wait, why did he want to infect anyone?

_Attack her! Attack her now!_

'Your name is the Doctor,' the little voice said again. 'You're a Time Lord. You're 900-years-old and right now, you have to save Rose Tyler.'

Rose Tyler.

"Rose!" he cried out, turned his head and saw he sitting into the next cell, blood around her mouth. Her blood? No, his blood. He was bleeding all over the floor...

She'd bitten him. No, he'd made her. He'd wanted to be an Ex. Why? Why did he want this?

Then he remembered.

He launched to his feet, the hallucination of his mother shattering into nothing. Despite his injuries he was strong on his feet. There was no pain. Not anymore. Through his muddled head he realised that his body was dead and he was in limbo - unable to regenerate.

Jack had left the cell door unlocked, so the Doctor quickly moved out of the door. He blindly followed a plan that had formed spasmodically in his head - get the blue wand, get the blue wand…

He found a bag on a nearby table and practically ripped it open. Objects spilled out. By instinct they knew they were his. He shoved them all into his pockets but held onto the blue wand, moving back to Ex-Rose's cell. After a small struggle he unlocked the door and held out his hand to Ex-Rose. She wouldn't eat him anymore, he was one of her own.

"Going," he gasped out. He could feel the infection trying desperately to overwhelm him, but he couldn't let it. He would become completely out of his head. She got up and went to him, taking his hand.

He turned and scooped up the gun of the dead Ex-guard on the floor.

'No, no guns,' the voice squeaked, but although he was trying desperately to listen to it it was so very quiet. Instead, he checked the weapon was loaded and turned off the safety.

'Blue box. Blue box,' the little voice told him.

_No, kill! Eat! Consume! So hungry..._

He was so hungry. He needed food.

_Flesh. Eat flesh. Flesh good._

The Doctor hit his head with the palm of his hand. "Shut up!" he cried out.

'Blue box,' the little voice whispered again. 'Find the blue box.'

He started through the corridor, out of cells and into the main room. There was a full battle going on between the soldiers and the Exes.

_Help them. Help your kind. Kill the humans!_

'Blue box,' the little voice said, but it was now so quiet he could barely hear it. He noticed one of the soldiers turn to him, gun raised - the Doctor immediately raised his own weapon and shot the human with absolute precision through the neck.

Then they were in the middle of the battle. The Doctor instinctively kept Ex-Rose close and safe as he blasted his way through the crowds. For some reason his brain was telling him to get to the ward so he did, cutting down anyone who dared confront him. Every time he shot a human his inner voice shrieked in pain and alarm, but he didn't particularly care. Not anymore.

He finally got himself and Ex-Rose to the ward, closing the door behind them.

_No! Eat! So hungry…_

Something was driving him to grab some handcuffs from the drawer. He did, snapping one on his left wrist and attaching the other end to a sturdy metal pole.

'No kill. Not anymore. No more killing.'

_No, hungry!_

The Doctor ended up whacking his head on the pole. This got him a few moments of clarity through the Ex instinctive haze. He couldn't go out. He was too well-trained as a soldier. He would kill everyone and be unable to control himself...

He looked up at Ex-Rose, who was standing over him, her mouth bloody. Desperately hoping there was enough of Rose left in her, he reached up with his uncuffed hand and placed his fingers on her temple.

There, he put one, clear, objective-driven sentence right into her head.

_Get to the blue box._

He then pulled her TARDIS key out of his pocket and hung it around her neck.

"Go," he gasped. "Find… blue box… Rose."

Then she was off, out of the door.

He was highly aware he might never see her again, because He couldn't fight it. Not anymore. He sank like a stone to the floor, finally submitting to the infection as he became a fully-fledged Ex.

* * *

Ex-Rose stumbled over the battlefield. Around her were the bodies of the dead and dying. Part of her wanted to eat them, but another, stronger part was screaming at her…

_Get to the blue box!_

She continued, through the bodies and blood back towards the blue box. People took some shots at her and a few hit, but her dead body felt no pain. She continued, through the battlefield and out the other side. Above her was the towering building in which she knew the blue box was contained. She got inside, followed her instinct, and somehow made it to the blue box.

_Key. Use the key!_

She ran her blood-covered hands around her neck and pulled out the blue box key. She slotted it into the lock and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Immediately she saw the Time Lord standing in front of her.  _"This is emergency program…"_ he began to say but she wasn't listening, consumed with desire to eat him. She launched herself forward aggressively, swinging her hands through him but the image just corrupted. Then a strange churning started - weirdly familiar to her though she couldn't quite quantify it - the entire place jolted and she was sent to the floor. There was a final loud,  _thunk,_ and the door opened.

Then there was the most divine smell she'd ever encountered. Better than the Humans. Better than the Time Lord. It was, it was…

_Immortal._

She looked up to see a man standing there in a trench-coat, his hair black. He said something but it didn't register with her.

His charismatic smile quickly dropped as she launched herself straight at him, going straight for the neck. The man reacted immediately, sidestepping and grabbing her arm. He then pulled back a fist, and punched her straight in the face.

Everything went black.


	15. Revenge

Jack had had to strap down Rose in order to give her a scan, which did indeed confirm it was her, though her immune system had been absolutely overwhelmed by some sort of powerful, unrelenting infection that seemed to cause zombie-like mutations. He'd never seen anything like it, and he had no idea how to treat it.

He knew enough to know that if Rose had turned up here on her own that meant the Doctor had sent her away himself. Which meant the Time Lord was in massive danger, and now had no means of escape.

Jack just had no idea how to get to him, and no idea how to cure Rose. He'd tried all the usual cure-all medicines the Doctor had, but none of them had worked. He didn't know what to do.

He took a walk through the TARDIS to help clear his head, leaving Rose secure in the infirmary. Obviously since the Doctor had sent her to him like this, he expected Jack to do something about it that didn't involve shooting her. But what?

The ideal plan of action of course would be to go back to wherever the Doctor was and try and figure out what the hell was going on. But not knowing how to cure Rose or where the Doctor was he was a little stuck. Besides, even if he did know he couldn't pilot the TARDIS.

What was he missing?

He ended up walking to the console room, staring at the myriad of complex buttons and levers. He'd seen the Doctor do it a million times, but Jack had no idea where to even start. He'd probably end up somewhere on prehistoric Neptune.

Still, he couldn't just sit here staring. He had to do  _something_. He stepped up to the controls, rested a finger on a randomly-placed button, took an affirming breath, and pressed it.

The TARDIS immediately thunked, making Jack jump. But that was all she did. With increased confidence he stabbed another button. Nothing happened. Another. Nothing. Another. Nothing. He tried mashing the buttons all together. Nothing.

He groaned, stepping back with his hands on his head to try and reassess the situation, when all of a sudden the column began to churn, apparently of its own accord. Shocked, Jack stepped back again just to make sure he wasn't touching anything. Nope.

There was a jolt as the TARDIS landed. Where the Doctor was?

There was only one way to find out.

He pulled out his gun, checked it was loaded, went to the TARDIS doors and stepped out.

* * *

He was so,  _so_ hungry.

Ex-Doctor had tried with all of his might to get his hand free, but it wasn't coming no matter how hard he pulled. He'd tried shooting at the cuffs, and although the bullets had slightly chipped the metal it wasn't enough. The desperation to eat was everywhere in his head,  _screaming_ at him. He had to get free. He was so hungry. He needed to eat...

He was just contemplating chewing his own arm off when one of the bombs that had been repeatedly raining around outside the base hit exceptionally close to him. The shock-wave blasted out, throwing him back against the wall, which seemed to move, creak and almost topple. The roof over him shifted dangerously…

It was going to collapse.

Instinctively Ex-Doctor roll underneath the bed. Seconds later the metal structure tore in a deafening shriek and collapsed almost immediately right where he'd been sat two seconds ago. He closed his eyes, waiting for the debris to settle before he dared to look again, and saw the pole his handcuffs were attached to was now split in half.

He clambered out of his hiding place, stepping over the metal and concrete to finally free his hand.

Then he stepped out, through the fresh hole in the wall onto the battlefield.

He could smell  _him._ The one that had been tormenting him for the past few months. The one that had tortured him and not let him treat Rose.

Ex-Doctor rapidly decided that revenge was a dish best served in Time Agent uniform.

He checked his gun. One bullet left. That would be enough. Then he set off, following the smell of Time Agent Jack.

* * *

Future Jack had run across a horrific battlefield, jumping through the bodies on the ground and avoiding the blasts of bombs. He'd had to shoot a few people to keep them from killing him - people who apparently had the same zombie-like infection as Rose. He'd also progressively been checking bodies as he ran, but hadn't yet seen the Doctor. He couldn't lie to himself - was expecting to see him dead. If the Doctor had been infected too, it seemed the only way of killing the infected was with a bullet through the brain. Not even the Doctor could regenerate from that.

But he hadn't seen him yet, so Jack kept going. He figured that in order to find the Doctor he should probably head to where the source of all the zombies appeared to be, which ended up being some sort of army bunker that was half destroyed by bombs.

He headed into the bunker, shooting a few more zombies dead as he went, yelling out the Doctor's name as he progressed. He got nothing back.

He searched every room, and it wasn't until he went into what obviously used to be a medical ward that things took a turn for the worse. Half of the room was caved in, and just by the door was the sonic screwdriver, abandoned on the floor. The Doctor wouldn't just leave his sonic.

Jack picked it up. It was smeared with blood - blood that had a slight orange tinge. He knew by that alone that it was definately the Doctor's blood.

He swore under his breath, checking the room again. There was a blood trail on the floor - leading out from under a bed through massive hole in the wall.

He didn't have any other leads. He pocketed the sonic and followed the trail.

* * *

Time Agent Jack had made it to the evacuation point in a large building, but the rest of the evacuees had already left and there was just one escape pod remaining. He ran up to it, hitting the button to open the door.

The panel flashed red. It was locked.

"C'mon!" he urged the ship, whacking the button a few more times. It continued to flash red.

 _"Sorry!"_  came a voice from inside the pod, speaking on an outer comm.  _"Taken!"_

"John!" Jack realised. "John, it's Jack, open the door!"

 _"This is one person only,"_ John said.  _"They're sending another round of escape pods, you'll have to wait, sorry!"_

"John!" Jack cried out, but the pod was already firing up. Jack had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid the fire of the jet engines as the pod lifted up through the open roof, and immediately departed in a blur of speed.

Jack cried out in frustration. He tried his vortex manipulator for about the 98th time, but as ever the EMP deployed by the Exes was shorting it out. He had no escape - he had to stand his ground and wait for the next evacuation.

He pulled out his gun, checking his surroundings. Only then did he notice that there was someone heading towards him through the doors.

He raised his gun. "Identify yourself!" he shouted across the room, but the person didn't yell anything back. They were heading towards him quite quickly - running.

"I'm gonna shoot!" Jack warned.

They didn't shout back, and now Jack could make out basic features. Tall, thin, brown hair…

It was Ex-Doctor.

Jack pulled the trigger straight away. It the ex-Time Lord didn't stop running. Jack kept firing repeatedly until he was out of ammunition, yet still the ex-Doctor was still heading towards him. Twenty metres. Ten metres…

It quickly became apparent that although some of Jack bullets had hit Ex-Doctor, they hadn't been near his head. Jack cursed himself for his terrible shot, turned, and began to run.

He didn't get far. The ex-Doctor hit him right in the back in a full-force rugby tackle, mowing him to the ground in a chaotic mess of limbs.

Jack struggled desperately, trying to throw the ex-Time Lord off. But despite his lankiness the Ex seemed to somehow be even stronger than him, pinning him to the ground by his neck with one hand, and the gun in his other.

"You killed Rose!" the Ex screamed.

"I d-didn't!" Jack managed to wheeze out. "She… She got i-infected!"

"If you just let us leave she would've been okay!" the Ex shouted.

"I'm sorry, all right, I'm sorry!" Jack garbled out.

"It's not good enough!"

"If I could've fixed her I would!"

"You just wanted my time machine, you didn't care what it took!" the Ex spat, and rammed his gun up against Jack's head.

"You can't kill me!" Jack said desperately. "You know me in the future! You can't, you're a Time Lord, you protect time!"

"I've got nothing left!" the Ex screamed in his face. "I don't  _care_ anymore!"

He made ready to fire, back Jack was prepared. He rolled, forcing the ex-Doctor off of him and grabbing the gun in the process. The Time Agent rose, gun in hand, aimed his shot at Ex-Doctor's head and pulled the trigger.

But before he did, somebody suddenly appeared, right in front of the ex-Doctor. By the time he'd had a chance to process it he'd already fired, and the bullet went straight into the person's head in place of the ex-Doctor.

Jack stumbled back in surprise as the body hurtled to the floor head first, bouncing off until it came to a rest. He blinked, shocked as he registered the horribly familiar bright blue eyes, the fresh blood seeping into black hair...

He'd just killed himself.

In the blur of panic and emotion he hadn't realised that someone else was there too. He raised his horrified gaze to the new arrivals - a very familiar brown-haired man with a very familiar blonde-haired woman, both uninfected and unscathed were standing over the ex-Doctor, who was now lying on the floor unconscious from a blow to the head.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, hands sliding back into his pockets. Jack impulsively fired his gun,, but it was out of bullets, and the Doctor seemed to know that as he didn't even flinch.

"What the... Who the fuck are you?!" he stammered, dropping the gun. It hit the floor redundantly. "This ain't real! He's not real!"

"I'm afraid he is real," the Doctor said gently. "And he is you. A you from the future. Would you like me to explain who we are?"

Jack paused, and then nodded, still shaking.

"We're time travellers, my name is the Doctor, I am a Time Lord. This is my companion, Rose Tyler," he said, gesturing to the woman beside him, who gave a cheery wave. "She comes from 21st century Earth, she's human. We met your future self in the Blitz of World War 2 in the 20th century, he was a Time Agent turned conman. He calls, or rather,  _called_  himself Captain Jack Harkness. We've all been travelling in my Tardis for around a year together now, and just before we met you, Rose and I left him in a hotel on Plax. He just came to rescue us. You've just shot him. Any questions?"

"No, no," Jack stammered, utterly disbelievingly. "Are... Are you telling me I've just killed myself?!"

"Yes."

Jack was shaking his head quickly, panicking. He was a mile away from the calm, collected and sophisticated Jack he liked to appear as. "He's not me. You've got my DNA, you've cloned me, or genetic modification, or… or… morphic illusion..."

The Doctor continued to gaze at him sympathetically. "Jack said he used to live on the Boeshane Peninsula, with his mother, his brother, Gray and his father Franklin. He, Gray and Franklin used to play cricket together."

"You've seen some files, some records!" Jack accused, spitting.

"I might have done, or he might have told me," the Doctor said, pointing to the dead man on the floor, though he continued to stare at Jack. "You can go into denial all you want, but the fact of the matter is you've just murdered yourself. Or..." The Doctor paused, clicking his tongue and bouncing his head from side-to-side in contemplation. "Maybe that should be suicide?" He turned to Rose. "What would you rule that? Murder or suicide?"

"Suicidal manslaughter?" Rose proposed.

"Yeah!" the Doctor said nodding before looking back at Jack. "Suicidal manslaughter, I like that."

Jack stared at him, lowering his gun and staring at his own dead future self on the floor. "... What happens next?" he croaked.

"Your life!" the Doctor exclaimed, arms in the air, suddenly grinning. "Hey, older you might be dead but you've got a nice few years until it happens. At least you know how it happens, eh? Though, I have heard, knowing when and how you die can  _really_  play on your mind a lot. Really plague the subconscious. But hey, you know that already don't you? That's a method of psychological torture with you Time Agents, if I recall your kind correctly. But anyway. Good luck. We'll go and bury you, now. Don't worry, we'll give you a good send off. Fireworks and everything. If I can find some."

"Wait!" Jack yelled, stepping forward. "I can stop this. I just won't come here to save you in the future. Plax, you said Plax. I'll stop it from happening..."

The Doctor stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Oooh, Jack! You will be here, you will get shot in the head, it will happen, and you can't do anything to change it."

Jack blinked. "What... What do you mean?"

"You will  _willingly_  walk to your death. I can promise you that."

And with that, Rose grabbed the ex-Doctor's arm in one hand and the Doctor's in the other as the Doctor whipped out a blue-tipped electronic device, buzzed his future self's manipulator and pressed some buttons. With grins and waves from the Doctor and Rose, all four disappeared from in front of him.


	16. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ends on a rather depressing note. I'm usually all for a happy ending but, err...

Immortal Jack woke up with a gasp, impulsively launching out a hand to grab the nearest object available in a desperate attempt to stop the falling-through-the-infinite-abyss feeling. His hand clamped on a thin leg as his eyes burst open, and he just about registered someone standing over him.

A face swam into a view, grinning down at him.

"Doctor?" he croaked, confused. "But you were…"

The Doctor heaved a sigh. "Time travel, Jack. Try and keep up. I'm from the future."

Jack struggled to his feet, using the Doctor as leverage who obligingly helped him upright. He was standing in the TARDIS console room, everything perfectly calm. "Where's Rose?" he asked.

"Which one?" the Doctor joked. "Sorry. Mine's in my Tardis, and your one is in the infirmary with your Doctor, secured."

"Secured," Jack repeated, already moving off down the corridor to the infirmary.

"Well, they haven't woken up yet, but when they do they're going to want a snack," the Doctor explained. "Best if they don't get it."

"What happened?"

"What do you remember about your latest death?"

"Some guy was pointing a gun at you so I took the bullet," Jack told him. "You're welcome, by the way."

They reached the infirmary, where Jack found his two friends secured down to tables. They both looked like death, pale as ghosts and splattered with bloodstains.

"Are you gonna tell me what the hell is wrong with them?" Jack wondered.

"Yeah, sorry," the Doctor said. "They're Exes."

"And what the hell's that?"

"You really don't remember?"

Jack shrugged. "Am I supposed to?"

"Do you remember the War of the Exes on Owatta, 6.2:3:5119 modern era?"

Jack frowned, thinking for a moment about that. "Yeah, some kinda war with this infection that cause people to mutate like zom…" He trailed off, staring at the two people in the infirmary for a moment before adding, "oh."

"It's a very aggressive strain of what I can only describe as something like zoophaga," the Doctor explained. "So aggressive even I couldn't hold out for long against it," he explained, indicated his own body in the infirmary. "What can you remember about the war?"

"There was something about getting Time Agents involved but we never did," Jack replied after a moments thought.

"Oh, you did," the Doctor assured him.

"I was there?"

The Doctor nodded. "In fact, he was the one that shot you."

Jack paused, staring at the Doctor in mild horror. "Wait, I shot myself?"

"Yep," the Doctor affirmed.

"I can't remember… That was it, wasn't it? My two years of missing memories."

The Doctor nodded. "Sorry," he said sincerely.

Jack thought about that for a moment. "Did I know I shot myself?"

"Yep," the Doctor confirmed.

"But I didn't know I'm immortal."

"Nope."

"So old me thinks I killed myself."

"Yep."

"Right," Jack muttered, frowning and looking back at his two friends.

"Me and Rose have been stuck for the past few months on the front lines with your pleasant Time Agent self," the Doctor told him. "We couldn't get out. When we we found out we were caught, and you and John Hart took a lot of pleasure in trying to get me to give you my Tardis."

Jack froze, his eyes widening. "I didn't… Tell me I didn't do anything to you."

The Doctor's lack of reply told him all he needed to know.

"What about Rose?" Jack almost croaked. "I didn't do anything to her, did I?"

The Doctor shook his head. "She was already infected by then."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Really," Jack insisted, taking his arms. "I'm sorry."

"Forget it," the Time Lord dismissed. "You need to concentrate on these two, now. The infection's powerful but my immune system's more powerful. It'll take a while, but they'll get there. They've also been shot quite a few times. Me, my Jack and my Rose have managed to get out the bullets but as soon as the infection goes they're going to start feeling it. You know where all the painkillers and dressings are, right?"

Jack nodded. "Cupboard, top shelf."

The Doctor nodded. "And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but the next bit isn't easy."

"What?"

"They need you now more than ever."

"What d'you mean?" Jack asked weakly, despite how little he wanted to know the answer.

"No one's ever recovered from this type of zoophaga before," the Doctor answered slowly. "And that's probably a blessing. Unfortunately, me and Rose remember what we did as Exes. All of it."

Jack froze. "... All of it?"

"Every bit."

Jack paused. "Are you okay?" he eventually managed to ask.

The Doctor's eyes darkened slightly. "I'm always okay."

Jack swallowed, knowing him well enough to know that meant nothing positive. "Okay, god," he muttered and reached forward to hug him. The Doctor flinched slightly, causing Jack to pull back abruptly. "S-sorry," he stammered.

"It's okay," the Doctor muttered. "I need to go. I'm sorry."

Jack could only watch as he turned and left at a quicker pace than Jack was accustomed to.

He felt quite, quite sick.

* * *

The Doctor woke up.

He opened his eyes, and found himself lying in the infirmary, in amongst the covers of a bed. It was very low-lit. He tried to get up, but pain burst through his body and he collapsed again, helpless.

Finally the Doctor's thought processes caught up with his body and he groaned, weakly reaching up a hand to check his face. He hadn't regenerated. So why did he feel so weak?

Then it all came flooding back.

All the death and blood. All the pain and suffering. Being tortured by Jack. Shooting humans…

"Rose," he found himself saying, He grunted, and slowly turned onto his side to look at the next bed. There was Rose. For a while he just watched her, trying to ignore the hallucinations of the humans he'd shot stood behind her, staring at him. After about ten minutes she slowly rose to consciousness, shifting slightly and blinking until she focused on him, offered a brief smile and tried to get up. Just as he'd done, she cried out and dropped again.

"Don't," the Doctor muttered.

"Why… Oh god, I've been shot," she realised.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Wait…" She paused, her eyes wide and darting around. "Oh no. Oh god. I…"

"It's okay," he breathed.

"No," she blurted out, suddenly in tears. "I… oh god. I can't believe I… I  _bit_ you."

"Only because I made you."

"No," she insisted, "I wanted  _so much_ to eat you… I lapped up your blood…"

She immediately tried to get up again, but the pain and weakness prevented her once more.

"Don't, just relax," he told her. "You're recovering from a hugely aggressive zoophagous infection."

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped back rudely.

"Rose…"

"I need to clean my mouth, I can  _taste you."_

"Rose."

"I can taste your blood!" Rose yelped out, crying profusely now.

The Doctor force out his hand to the gap between their beds. He struggled to keep it held up but he forced himself to, searching for her hand. "Rose, take my hand."

Rose stared at his arm, her eyes wide. He looked down. He hadn't realised the middle was heavily bandaged where she'd sunk her teeth straight in.

"No," he said. "It's okay. I made you. Take my hand."

She was shaking badly, but on his command she winced and forced out her hand to take his.

"It's not your fault. You were infected," he said slowly and carefully. "You had no control."

She continued to cry. "I did it," she moaned, let go of his hand and promptly turned and began to cough and retch over the other wide of the bed, away from him. He just let her. There wasn't much else he could do. Frankly, he expected nothing else from her.

He had to get up. He forced himself through pain and lethargy to sit up and push himself to stand up. He didn't of course, collapsing almost immediately onto the floor. He tried to ignore it, using Rose's bed rails to help himself get up again before finally collapsing down onto her bed. With energy he didn't even know he had left he shuffled up beside her and put his arms around her.

"No," Rose moaned, weakly trying to get him off. "Don't…"

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her gently, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the hallucinated, bloody humans now standing at the end of the bed. But somehow they even seemed to be ingrained inside his eyelids.

* * *

Rose gave in to his hug. But he was shirtless, and she could feel the skin of his shoulder pressing against her cheek. Impulsively she turned her head ever so slightly, and got a full whiff of his scent.

It smelt good enough to eat.

Cautiously she rested her lips on his skin, opened her mouth slightly…

"No!" she suddenly cried out, pulling away. "Get off!"

"What?" he asked.

"Your smell…" she gasped through a new set of tears. "I… don't want to eat you. Get off. Go away."

"No, it's fine, you're cured," he assured her.

"I'm not cured!" she snapped back. "Get off!"

"Rose, this is in your head, you're just…"

"GET OFF!" she screamed out and pushed him away with all the energy she could muster. It had enough force to send him off of the bed, sprawling out on the floor. "Lock me up," she begged. "Please!"

The Doctor groaned badly, curling up slightly. "Not… gonna lock… you up…" he managed to gasped.

"I don't wanna eat you," she cried, her head in her hands. "Please lock me up."

"You're… you're not going… to eat… anyone," he rasped, still on the floor. "Not… infected."

"I am!" she insisted. "I can smell you…"

"It's in… in your head," he said weakly.

"Fuck off or I'll eat you!" she swore, covered her ears and scrunched up her eyes, trying desperately to breathe through her mouth. But it felt like his smell was just pouring into her.

Then a new smell arrived. She opened her eyes again, and saw Jack standing in the doorway.

* * *

Jack had only just convinced himself to step back into the infirmary again when it had become clear that the Doctor and Rose were arguing. The moment he'd entered Rose started hurling abuse at him for getting her infected; putting them in this situation.

He tried to ignore it and instead concentrate on what the future Doctor had told him. He moved forward to the Doctor on the floor, steeled himself, and picked the Doctor up. The Time Lord badly flinched, but Jack tried to ignore it. Still with Rose belting out curses in his direction he turned and carried the Doctor out of the infirmary.

"Where are we going?" the Doctor asked weakly, perhaps even scared.

"To your room," Jack told him, trying not to cry.

* * *

When they got there Jack laid him down. The Doctor tried to get up again but the combination of weakness and pain meant he didn't get far.

"Don't try to get up," Jack said seriously. "You were shot in your Ex form way too many times."

The Doctor frowned. "Wait… you know?"

Jack nodded. "Your future self turned up to sort everything out. You got better a few days ago, he told me to extract some of your antibodies to give to Rose."

"Oh," the Doctor muttered. "But… I was about to… to eat your past self."

"He shot at you but I took the bullet," Jack answered. All the confidence and charisma he usually possessed was utterly gone. "Then your future self turned up, knocked you out and saved us. He told me everything. What I did to you. I'm sorry."

Jack reached forward to touch him, but the Doctor involuntarily flinched quite badly once again. Jack quickly pulled his hand away.

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered again. "I'll get some bandages," he said somewhat hollowly, and left.

"Jack!" the Doctor called, but he was already gone. "Jack," he repeated in a murmur, closing his eyes. "It's not your fault…"

He was feeling guilty over the torture, the Doctor knew. Though the Doctor wasn't exactly helping by flinching.

He could do nothing but lay there, feeling empty. The crowd of hallucinated dead humans had followed him from the infirmary to his room, and now he was alone and vulnerable, he suddenly felt a lot more scared.

"Go away," he begged the hallucinations. "Please go away."

They weren't listening. They didn't care. He closed his eyes briefly, before opening them again.

The dead humans had moved closer to him.

"You're not going away," the Doctor muttered, resigned. He inadvertently blinked again. The humans jumped forward to within reaching distance.

He suddenly felt terror like he'd never felt before. But he couldn't move for the pain. So he ended up lying there, staring up at the ceiling trying desperately not to blink as he could feel them standing right next to him…

The door opened. Jack was back.

"She hates me," Jack moaned, hovering near the door. Thankfully the humans had disappeared. "She really, really hates me."

"It wasn't you," the Doctor replied weakly. "It's not your fault."

"Everything's my fault," he muttered, gazing at the Doctor's wounds.

"Forget it," the Time Lord insisted. "You don't know what happened. You can't remember it."

"But I hurt you," Jack almost whispered.

"Jack, I don't mind," the Doctor said seriously. "I really, really don't mind."

"I do," Jack muttered.

There was an awkward pause.

"Jack, I'm bleeding," the Doctor reminded him.

"S-sorry," Jack muttered, and stepped forward with a bunch of new dressings in hand. He dared to sit down on the bed beside the Doctor, hesitating for a moment before reaching forward to touch him. Once again, he flinched. Jack quickly drew his hand back, panicked.

"Sorry, I can't help it," the Doctor said quietly. "Just ignore it."

"How can I?" Jack asked seriously.

The Doctor didn't answer that as the ex-Time Agent began to re-bandage him. He tried desperately not to flinch, but it happened.

Yes, he was a little scared of Jack. But he was trying desperately to remind himself that Jack was someone he trusted.

* * *

Time Agent Captain Jack Harkness strolled into the Time Agent Headquarters, a man on a mission.

The visions of the death of his future self had been circling around his head like a most horrific film on repeat. He'd been reliving the moment since he'd experienced it, constantly trying to judge how old he'd been when he'd died; anticipating meeting the Doctor and Rose; just what the hell he was going to do about it when he got there. But it wasn't like it mattered either way. He knew how he was going to die.

There was only one solution, he knew.

He barged straight into his superior's office and slammed his palms onto the table.

"Wipe my memory," he demanded.

"What?" his boss asked stunned.

"I can't cope with this," Jack insisted. "I want my memory wiped. All the time I was in the war. Get rid of it."

"Jack, you can't be serious."

"I am," Jack grated. "Either you consent to me wiping my memory or I'll sue the hell out of you."

His boss stared at him. "Why? You know the shit that comes with wiping your memory, can't you sort this out?"

"No," Jack said straight. "Just wipe my memory."

His boss sighed. "All right."

* * *

When Jack was done he made to go, but the Doctor stopped him.

"Please don't leave me alone," the Doctor suddenly said. He sounded so quiet and pathetic.

Jack sighed, carefully and slowly sitting down on the bed beside him so as not to upset him with sudden movements. The Doctor grunted and turned over to look at him as Jack carefully put the bed covers over him and brushed the Time Lord's fringe away from his eyes. It was strange. They were lying on the same bed, the Doctor half undressed, but Jack felt no compulsion to make a dirty joke.

"It's funny," Jack suddenly said. "It was me all along, wasn't it?"

The Doctor nodded. "I think so."

"I couldn't handle thinking I'd know when I'd die. So I wiped my own memory."

The Doctor nodded again. "I'm sorry."

"I spent all that time trying to find out why the Time Agency stole my memory but it was me all along. Now I wish I never found out. I'd give anything for you two not to have gone through that."

"It's done," the Doctor said seriously. "We can't change it."

There was a hanging silence between them.

"It'll be okay," Jack eventually said. "I saw your future self. He seemed a lot better."

The Doctor just nodded.

"Maybe we should wipe our memories," Jack suddenly said, somewhat hesitantly.

"We can't, else I won't come back from the future," the Doctor pointed out.

"Oh. Yeah."

Another long pause. Jack did wonder how long it would be until the awkward silences stopped.

"Go to sleep. I'll keep checking in on Rose," he finished weakly.

* * *

Rose Tyler was still in the infirmary, clutching the bedsheets to her chest. She could smell him. The Time Lord. He was nearby.

It was like his smell was all over her.

Part of her screamed to go and find him and eat him, but the other part was desperately trying to hold the first part back.

She might never be able to travel with the Doctor again.

And what about other people? She was still infected, she was sure of it. What about her mum? Would she try to eat her mum?

His smell came wafting up her nose again, and her stomach rumbled.

She hated the feeling. But not as much as she hated Jack for his part in doing it to her.

* * *

_"So you used to be a Time Agent, and now you're tryin' to con 'em?"_

" _If it makes me sound any better, I'm not in it for the money."_

" _For what?"_

" _Woke up one morning when I was still working for them, found they'd stolen two years of my memories. I'd like 'em back."_

" _They stole your memories?"_

" _Two years of my life, no idea what I did. Your friend over there doesn't trust me, and for all I know, he's right not to."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've sort of left this halfway between a real ending and a sequel ending as I think I could do some real psychological angst here and I'm not sure whether I want to do it or not. So if I don't come back to this again, please assume a happily ever after :P Or a not happily ever after, whichever you like best... :o


End file.
